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‘Hang on, Rex!” he pleaded, crawling out and grasping his 
chum’s wrists . — Page 178 . 



REX KINGDON 

IN THE 

NORTH WOODS 


BY 

GORDON BRADDOCK 

AUTHOR OF “REX KINGDON OF RIDGEWOOD HIGH,” ETC. 


WITH FOUR HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY CHARLES L. WRENN 


NEW YORK 

HURST & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 




Copyright, 1914, 

BY 

HURST & COMPANY 


AUG 18 1914* 

4 0, (fjj 

©CI.A380027 

^ 4 / 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. ‘ Caught in the Storm . ... 13 

II. ^ Missing Comrades ...... 22 

III. Mystery on Mystery ..... 32 

IV. /The Search in the Night . . . 38 

,V. Starbuck’s Story 50 

VI. A Man Wanted 59 

VII. The Fellow Who Went Away . 66 
[VIII. ^The Cabin in the Woods ... 79 

IX. Still More Mystery 87 

X. The Rifle Shot ...... 97 

XI. A Staggering Discovery . . . 106 

XII. The Name in the Book . . . .114 

XIII. The Secret Passage . . * . . 120 

XIV. The Other Party ...... 130 

XV. A Duel on the Water .... 142 

XVI. Phillips of Walcott Hall . .150 

11 


12 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PACE 

XVII. The Fellow Who Plotted . .158 

XVIII. The Result 166 

XIX. A Lesson to Remember . * . .175 

XX. The Penalty 184 

XXI. The Man in the Thicket . . . 194 

XXII. The Masquerader 205 

XXIII. Rex Becomes Serious . . . .216 
XXIV. Kingdon’s Cleverness .... 225 
XXV. The Amateur Detective . . . 232 

XXVI. Swift Work 240 

XXVII. How It Was Done 248 

XXVIII. When Nipper Forgot .... 255 
XXIX. Friendship’s Hand Refused . . 265 

XXX. Troubled by Regret 277 

XXXI. The Forest Fire 285 

XXXII. Forgiven 296 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGB 

“Hang on, Rex!” he pleaded, crawling out and 

grasping his chum’s wrists - Frontispiece ^ 

Involuntarily Rex pressed the bulb operating the 

noiseless shutter - 78^ 

“Look out, Rex! Brig’s going to do you dirt!” - 148 ^ 

Like a flash Ware clutched the thick, yellow mass 

of hair with one hand 260 v ' 



AUTHOR’S FOREWORD. 


“Rex Kingdon in the North Woods” is the 
second volume of The Twentieth Century 
Boys Series, in which reappear nearly all the 
leading characters who figure in the first book, 
“Rex Kingdon of Ridgewood High.” It is the 
story of a summer camping expedition in a re- 
mote wilderness near the Canadian border where 
the boys meet with many mishaps and adven- 
tures, and are sometimes beset by peril. Their 
outing, it must be confessed, is a somewhat 
strenuous one ; yet it is enjoyed by them all, even 
Nipper Ware finding pleasure in it despite the 
determination of Rex to teach him to swim. 
Things begin to happen before the young vaca- 
tionists can reach their destination and settle 
down, and continue to happen in swift succes- 
sion until the climax comes in the forest fire de- 
scribed in the last pages. The rivalry between 
the two parties of campers, both from Ridge- 
wood, enlivens matter not a little; there are con- 
tention, strife, animosity and a bit of foolhardi- 


IV 


AUTHOR’S FOREWORD 


ness that teach a lasting lesson to all who par- 
ticipate in the affair. 

Naturally, in most of these events Rex is to 
the fore; for he is not the sort of fellow to sit 
back and look on when there is anything doing. 
And in this story he again demonstrates his 
clevernesses an amateur detective by performing 
a bit of work that clears from suspicion a man 
falsely accused of crime. 

A new character is introduced, Larry Phillips, 
of Walcott Hall, a famous preparatory school; 
and Larry comes forward with considerable 
prominence. He will be met again in the next 
book of the series, which will bear the title, “Rex 
Kingdon at Walcott Hall.” For Larry’s tales 
of the school, its mellow traditions, the advan- 
tages of its excellent educational system, its un- 
usually high grade of pupils, its athletic sports 
and other luring delights, fire Kingdon with 
ambition to matriculate there by hook or crook. 
Rex enters Walcott Hall in the autumn, and 
those who follow his adventures will, I think, fin d 
them lively and diverting. 

Gordon Braddock. 

New York, May 23, 1914. 


Rex Kingdon in the North 
Woods. 


CHAPTER I. 

CAUGHT IN THE STORM. 

A jagged, dazzling line of flame ripped 
through the saffron-colored clouds above the 
towering mountain, bathing for an instant the 
wide landscape in a cold glare. It lit up the 
bare, rocky surfaces of the upper regions and 
picked out distinctly the marshaled ranks of 
great pines thickly clustered to the very edge of 
the lake. Before it winked out and the crash- 
ing thunder rolled down from the heights like 
monstrous musketry, it brought into clear relief 
a large canoe darting over the glassy surface of 
the still water. 

Four boys crowded the canoe to the exclusion 
of all save a very little dunnage. Only two — 
one in the bow, the other in the stern — were pad- 
dling. The other two sat idle, and from the 
13 


14 


REX KINGDON 


lips of one of them the flash had wrenched a 
sharp, startled exclamation. Instantly he bit his 
lips, and in the weird yellowish half-light, a look 
of shame overspread his freckled face. He was 
badly frightened, but he did not wish his com- 
panions to know it. He bent his head and, grip- 
ping the edges of the canoe with straining fingers, 
tried to shut out the ominous picture before him. 

He couldn’t. Every detail seemed printed in- 
delibly on his brain. Through closed lids he 
could vividly see that terrible expanse of water, 
smooth, oily, unruffled everywhere. The tops of 
the tall pines lining the shore were motionless. 
The air was close and stifling. The uncanny 
smothered glare in the sky struck terror to Nip- 
per Ware’s heart. It was as if all nature were 
waiting in suspense for the catastrophe. 

“Why doesn’t he head for shore?” muttered 
the boy under his breath. “Why doesn’t he land 
anywhere? When it breaks it’ll be on us before 
we can do a thing — and I can’t swim !” 

The keynote of his distress lay in the last 
three words. The lightning would not trou- 
ble him, nor the storm, if only he could face 
them on solid earth. What struck terror to his 
soul was the thought of that cold, treacherous 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


15 


element lapping rhythmically against the bottom 
of the canoe. To his highstrung nerves, it al- 
most seemed as if he could feel the touch of 
little, insistent fingers striving for a hold on him 
that they might drag him into the depths, never 
to emerge. 

When a mere child Nipper had been pushed 
into a pond and nearly drowned by a crowd of 
thoughtless older boys, following which came a 
fear of water, that he had never been able to over- 
come. Time and time again, stirred by the jibes 
.and laughter of the other boys, he had tried to 
conquer the weakness, but he could not forget 
the horror of that first experience. Instead of 
fading as time went on, the remembrance grew 
more vivid. He schooled himself against be- 
traying his fears, but these were none the less 
gripping for his repression. Even though the 
water flowed placidly, almost sluggishly, through 
the North Woods wilderness, he had been 
nervous from the moment when, in the early 
morning, he had set foot in the big, safe-looking 
canoe. The portage into the lake had brought 
him fresh qualms. Now his terror was rapidly 
undermining his self-control. 

Another rough tongue of flame zigzagged 


16 


REX KINGDON 


across the heavens, followed by swift, crackling 
thunder. Nipper winced and half raised him- 
self in the canoe, his face greenish in the curi- 
ous saffron glow. 

‘“Rex!” burst from his twitching lips. “Can’t 



“Shore, fellows !” came in quick, decisive tones 
from the slim lad who sat erect and bareheaded 
in the stern. “We haven’t time to make the 
point. We’ll have to land anywhere — the 
quicker the better!” 

With a strong sweep of his paddle he swung 
the craft directly toward the shore they had been 
approaching at an angle, and drove it forward 
with swift, powerful strokes. It was not Nip- 
per’s cry that had moved him. In the shock of 
something the lightning flash revealed, he had 
been barely conscious of the boy’s shrill, hyster- 
ical protest. As the canoe swung around, there 
came another flash, and he saw it again — an odd, 
dark line far up the lake, coming toward them 
with incredible rapidity. 

“The wind!” he muttered, his lips pressing 
tightly together. “Whew! Hope I haven’t 
waited too long !” 

It was characteristic of Rex Kingdon, how- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS IT 

ever, never to waste time, or even thought, in 
useless repining. In a flash the point, with its 
sheltering cabin, which he had been striving to 
reach more for the sake of others than him- 
self, vanished from his mind. His lithe body, in 
the close-fitting, sleeveless jersey, seemed to take 
on an added compactness; his muscular arms 
drove the paddle through the water with in- 
creased force. His one object, now, was to reach 
shore ahead of the storm. 

But, swiftly though the canoe skimmed over 
the water, the storm came faster. Only King- 
don, apparently, had glimpsed that line of crested 
water sweeping down the lake, but very quickly 
the rush of wind, tearing through the valley, 
came clearly to them all/ At first a low, eerie 
moaning, it gathered volume until one could 
almost distinguish the fierce pound of waves, the 
lashing of great pine branches, the beat of 
drenching rain. 

To Nipper Ware it was like some awful night- 
mare. In all his life he had never felt so help- 
less, so afraid. With staring eyes he watched the 
onrushing storm, and then gauged the distance 
they still had to cover to reach the shore, and 
only his faith in the boy in the stern kept him 


18 


REX KINGDON 


from crying out in wild panic. But he could not 
let Rex know what a coward he was, and so he 
crouched there, biting his lips and holding back 
his emotion only through the hardest sort of 
effort. 

And then the whole dread picture was made 
more horrible by the swift descent of dense 
blackness. First the tree- tops vanished, then the 
outline of the shore, and the craft was left like 
a frail chip bobbing on a limitless expanse of 
ink. 

Nipper’s teeth dug into his under lip, his nails 
cut the palms of his hands. In another moment 
he would have shrieked aloud had not Kingdon’s 
cheery voice cut suddenly through the darkness : 

“Steady, Dick. Back water! Now forward 
a bit — slow. Easy, old man — easy!” 

Already the wind, with shrieking frenzy, was 
tearing through the treetops, when a slight bump 
brought from Ware’s lips a gasp of surprised 
thanksgiving. There could be no doubt that his 
relief was shared by the others. Though no 
one spoke, the swiftness with which a landing 
was made and the canoe dragged clear of the 
water seemed rather eloquent. Nipper fairly 
flung himself from the craft, and the joy of 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


19 


finding solid ground underfoot was one of the 
most relieving he had ever known. 

“Pull her up all the way, fellows, and turn 
her over,” urged Kingdom “Hustle !” 

The four lads did their best to execute the 
maneuver in a hurry* but darkness made haste 
difficult. They slipped on the rocks, bumped into 
trees and boulders, and finally, just as they had 
gripped the craft to turn it on edge,jKingdon’s 
voice, raised in sharp surprise and wonder, 
halted them: 

“Great scissors! Where’s the other canoe, 
fellows? They ought to have caught up with us 
before now.” 

“Gee, yes!” ejaculated Wrenshall. “They 
were right behind a few minutes ago.” 

“Heave her over,” snapped Kingdon sharply. 
“One, two, three — now!” 

Under their combined efforts the canoe was 
overturned expeditiously. Then Rex whirled 
abruptly and, followed by the others, ran back 
a few steps to the edge of the lake. For a mo- 
ment they stood in a huddled group, staring 
across the murky expanse of troubled water with 
straining eyes. Then Kingdon suddenly let out 
a shrill, piercing call which the High School lads 


20 


REX KINGDON 


at Ridgewood used in signaling one another. It 
sounded high above the whistling wind, but there 
was no response. A moment later a blinding 
flash of lightning lit up the whole lake, and Rex, 
staring back along their course, saw nothing but 
tossing waves. 

Then the rain came in drenching sheets, but 
still the boys did not at once give up. In chorus 
they shouted the names of the missing lads, their 
voices sounding shrilly between thunderclaps. 
Each time the lightning flashed they hoped to see 
the missing canoe, but in vain. 

“No use standing here and getting soaked, fel- 
lows,” said Rex Kingdon at last. “They’ve 
landed at some other place. I remember, now, 
that they haven’t been in sight since we passed 
the second island. We may as well crawl under 
our canoe and wait until this mess is over.” 

No time was wasted in following the sug- 
gestion. Fortunately, the small amount of dun- 
nage they carried was wrapped securely in water- 
proof covering and did not have to be consid- 
ered. Like gophers diving for their holes, each 
boy flung himself on the ground and wriggled 
under the hastily improvised shelter. They 
were protected by the canoe from the beating 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


21 


fury of the storm, but that did not prevent little 
streams, trickling over the uneven ground, from 
entering and attacking them at the most unex- 
pected points. For a space they were too busy 
shifting about in an effort to escape the worst 
of these rivulets to do much talking, or even 
thinking. Then, all at once, above the roar of 
wind and the lash of beating rain, Dick Wren- 
shall’s voice was raised in a sudden shout: 

“Jumping jingoes! If those fellows haven’t 
landed at the island, or anywhere else, it puts 
us in a fine pickle. We’ve hardly a scrap of 
dunnage to our names !” 


22 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER II. 

MISSING COMRADES. 

For a moment nobody spoke. Then Scott 
drew a quick breath. 

“That’s right, Dick,” he said. “We haven’t as 
much as a blanket — and I don’t believe there’s a 
bite of anything to eat.” 

“And if they did land on the island,” added 
Nipper Ware, “there’s a swell chance of their 
getting off it to-night. I see where we go with- 
out supper, and keep warm by playing tag.” 

He spoke lightly, for, once off the hated water, 
nothing seemed to matter very much. Yet, in 
spite of his outward indifference, Nipper did not 
look with any more joy than the others on the 
prospect of a chill and supperless evening. 
Nevertheless, that seemed to be the fate in store 
for them. Practically all their dunnage was in 
the missing canoe, in charge of Kent Starbuck 
and Louis Lebaude. It had packed better that 
way at the little railroad station, and, since the 
two crafts were to keep close together all the 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


23 


way up to the lake, it seemed to be a trifling mat- 
ter how they divided their cargo. Nipper wished 
now that Scott had gone in the other boat and 
allowed a proper amount of provisions and 
blankets to be stowed away in his place. 

“I’m not worrying so much over going with- 
out supper,” remarked Kingdon presently, “as 
about anything happening to Kent and Baudie. 
It doesn’t seem as if they’d dropped off at that 
island unless something was wrong with the 
canoe. The storm was only just beginning to 
look threatening.” 

“Are you sure they landed?” Wrenshall asked. 

“No, but I didn’t see them after we rounded 
the lower side of the island and headed for the 
point. You know we kept in pretty close to shore 
then. They weren’t more than a hundred yards 
behind us. Kent had just hollered to me about 
the old shack on the point and how we ought to 
reach it before the rain came. I didn’t look back 
again till we were a quarter of a mile beyond 
the island, and they weren’t in sight. Then it 
got too dark to see any distance, and I supposed 
they were chasing along behind us. Now I don’t 
know what to think.” 

The roar and fury of the tempest and the 


24 


REX KINGDON 


cramped positions of the four lads, obliged as 
they were to be constantly on the alert against 
some fresh inundation, made conversation diffi- 
cult. 

Thinking of the train of distressing incidents, 
Nipper began to wonder whether camping in the 
big woods was all it had been cracked up to be. 
When Rex had suggested this method of spending 
part of the summer vacation, Ware had met the 
proposal with enthusiasm, mainly, it must be con- 
fessed, because of his extraordinary liking for 
Kingdon. Now he began to suspect that he had 
acted with undue haste and impulse. It wasn’t 
the wet and darkness and going without supper 
that affected him most, for these were merely 
disagreeable details; but it had suddenly been 
borne upon him that the lake was going to prove 
decidedly arduous to get away from during their 
stay here. When the crowd of campers were 
not in it they would probably be on it. From a 
distance Nipper had been able to look upon this 
second contingency with resignation. So long 
as he wasn’t obliged to take swimming lessons, 
he told himself he wouldn’t mind fishing or ca- 
noeing or anything of that sort if undertaken in 
a safe craft; on the spot, he found he did mind 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


25 


very much. To consider anything like a repe- 
tition of to-night’s fright filled him with fresh 
panic. Rather than undergo that, he would feign 
illness or a summons home, or anything which 
would get him out of the unpleasant position 
his folly had placed him in. 

Nipper regretted that he was not like other 
boys who went swimming as unconcernedly as 
they took to a tub. He would have given the 
world to do so, and yet it never occurred to him 
that sheer will power on his part might accom- 
plish the seemingly impossible. Without realiz- 
ing it, he had long ago given up making an effort 
and lapsed into merely wishing, a process which 
was at this moment interrupted by Kingdon’s 
voice and action. 

“Well, the fireworks are about over, I reckon,” 
briskly commented the older lad, slipping out 
from under the canoe. “We may as well build 
a fire and dry out.” 

“Build a fire!” growled Scotty. “You talk like 
a dill pickle. How are you going to make a 
fire with everything soaked through ?” 

“I’m such a warm baby that there won’t be 
any trouble at all,” chuckled Kingdon. “Back 
up ! You’re stepping on your foot.” 


26 


REX KINGDON 


Somehow this foolish joshing made Nipper 
feel more cheerful. He crawled out from under 
the canoe, followed closely by Wrenshall and 
Scott, and found that the storm had passed on 
to the south, leaving the woods drenched and 
still dripping, but no longer pitch black. Even 
under the trees it had brightened considerably, 
and through a rift in the branches they could 
see the western sky across the lake streaked with 
the crimson glow of sunset. Off to the south, 
lightning still flashed and glimmered and the roll 
of thunder sounded at intervals, but it all seemed 
far away and unimportant. 

“Going to cut down a tree, are you ?” fatuously 
remarked Wrenshall, as he observed Kingdon 
secure his ax and "take off the leather case. 

“Oh, no; I just want to make myself a tooth- 
pick,” returned the blond lad blandly. 

Interestedly Nipper watched him approach a 
good sized white birch which at some former 
time had been blown over, the top being upheld 
by the trunk of a mammoth pine. With deft 
understrokes, he drove the ax into the lower side 
of the tree again and again, each time cutting 
out of the trunk a short, thick faggot. Having 
accumulated a dozen of these, he gathered them 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


27 


up and carried them back to a flat spot near the 
canoe. They were bone dry, and, with the aid 
of a little tinder from the butt of the same tree, 
Rex soon had a bright fire burning merrily. 

‘INow all we have to do is to keep it fed with 
stuff from that birch or any other dead hard- 
wood,” he said briskly. “Say, Nip, weren’t 
there some sandwiches left after we finished 
lunch ?” 

Ware stared for a moment, open-mouthed, 
then fell suddenly upon the small heap of dun- 
nage and pawed it frantically right and left. He 
sat up at last, clasping the remains of what had 
once been a stout pasteboard box. 

“They’re soaked to a pulp,” he groaned pet- 
tishly, after investigating. “Hang it! If I’d 
only remembered ” 

“Stick ’em by the fire to dry out,” suggested 
Kingdon. “With no other food in sight, we 
can’t afford to be squeamish. Besides, they’re 
wrapped in oiled paper.” 

Nipper promptly followed the suggestion and 
spread the contents of the box, including a paper 
of salt, to dry. Meanwhile Kingdon cut some 
more wood and some stout saplings for a leanto. 
Having erected the saplings, he opened the dun- 


28 


REX KINGDON 


nage to see what they had, and, with Wren- 
shall’s help, carried the canoe back to the lake 
again. His manner, the while, was entirely con- 
fident. He joked and laughed and made com- 
ments with a whimsical humor which soon had 
everyone grinning in complete forgetfulness of 
their discomforts, past and present. Even Nip- 
per ceased worrying about the water, especially 
when he found that the sandwiches were going 
to be palatable, at least. 

“They’re not half bad,” declared Wrenshall 
when each boy had received his share. “I only 
wish there were more of ’em. What’s that thing 
you’ve got, Nipper?” 

“Salt,” returned Ware, balancing the hard lit- 
tle cylinder on the end of one finger. “It dried 
hard. Reminds you of Lot’s wife when she 
looked back. Somehow I never could swallow 
that yarn.” 

“Why not?” inquired Kingdon, bending for- 
ward to lay another stick on the fire. “I’ve 
known queerer things than that to happen my- 
self.” 

“Humph!” sniffed Ware skeptically. “For in- 
stance ?” , 

“Well,” said the blond lad solemnly, “only last 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


29 


week, when Kent and I were coming out of the 
Portland station, a pretty girl crossed the street. 
Immediately Kent turned to rubber.” 

“Rotten,” said Nipper with a horrible grimace. 
“That’s a stale one, Rex. You ought to be 
ashamed.” 

“I am. To hide my shame I’m going to take 
Dick and go find out what’s become of those two 
young idiots and our dunnage.” 

“Gee whiz!” exclaimed Nipper, his eyes wid- 
ening. “You’re not going out on the lake to- 
night, are you?” 

“Why not?” 

Ware shrugged his shoulders. “It’ll be awful 
rough,” he mumbled. “And how will you find 
the island in the dark?” 

Kingdon laughed. “Where are your eyes, 
Nip?” he inquired with a wave of his hand to- 
ward the lake. 

Nipper followed the direction of the gesture 
and flushed slightly. The moon was just show- 
ing above the dark crest of the wooded moun- 
tain range. The silvery light made a wide path 
across the rippling water which showed no sign 
of the enormous waves Ware had expected to 


see. 


30 


REX KINGDOM 


“I didn’t know it would quiet down so quick,”' 
he explained in some embarrassment. “How 
long will you be gone?” 

“Not a great while. You fellows had better 
cut pine boughs for the leanto and some to stick 
up at the back. And don’t forget to keep the 
fire going. Come on, Dick.” 

Wrenshall took his place in the bow, and Rex 
got into the stern and pushed off. 

“Don’t get lost while we’re gone,” he called 
back jokingly to the two lads standing together 
on the bank. 

The canoe swept out into the lake, propelled 
dexterously by the paddlers. At once they 
headed in the direction of the island where King- 
don had last seen his missing friends. For some 
time, by moving his head the least bit, Rex could 
see the yellow glimmer of their own campfire 
shining across the water. He could even make 
out a shadow now and then as one of the fellows 
crossed in front of it. When the light finally 
winked out he was rather sorry. It was a cheer- 
ful gleam that told of warmth and brightness and 
human companionship — somewhat rare qualities 
in the great north woods. Unconsciously his 
glance swept the borders of the lake question- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


31 


ingly, but no other yellow twinkle sprang out of 
the blackness to reward his keen scrutiny. His 
forehead wrinkled slightly, and as he settled 
down to paddle, there was a touch of perplexity 
on his clean-cut, handsome face. 


32 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER HI. 
mystery on MYSTERY. 

The trip to the island was a silent one. For 
all his joshing and ostensible carelessness, King- 
don was much more troubled about the missing 
members of the party than he had let anyone sup- 
pose. It was difficult to imagine anything seri- 
ous having happened, yet no other explanation 
seemed acceptable. Kent Starbuck was scarcely 
the sort of fellow to be frightened by a distant 
thunderstorm into putting in at a scrap of an 
island. He was much more likely to get up steam 
and try to beat the other canoe to the point. 

“That’s what I thought he was doing, and I 
hustled to keep ahead of him,” murmured King- 
don under his breath. “Now I wish I hadn’t 
been in such a hurry.” 

Presently the island loomed up ahead of them 
in the silvery moonlight, looking like some dark, 
misty shadow which would dissolve at a breath. 
As they came nearer, however, it took on a more 
solid appearance. Some big pines and hemlocks,. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


33 


having found root on its narrow, rocky surface, 
showed up clearly, making splendid foils for clus- 
ters of ghostly silver birches. 

It was a tiny bit of land, across which one 
could almost throw a stone.) Kingdon paddled 
in close and sent up the shrill, familiar yell which 
the crowd used when seeking one another. 

“Hi, Kent!” he called, when no answer came. 
“Take the cotton out of your ears and show 
yourself.” 

Still there was not even an echo, and the dead 
silence struck a chill in Kingdon’s heart. There 
was something uncanny in the utter stillness of 
the little island, bathed in that cold, white light. 
He glanced at Wrenshall and found he had 
twisted about and was regarding him with trou- 
bled uneasiness. 

“They’re not here,” Dick said in a worried 
tone. 

“Looks that way,” admitted Rex. “Suppose 
we paddle around the island and see if there’s 
anything to be seen. It won’t take five min- 
utes.” 

The canoe moved forward without a sound 
save the gentle lapping of wavelets against the 
side. Out of the moonlight into the shadow it 


34 


REX KINGDON 


glided, suddenly becoming a part of the silent 
picture. A line of rocks, half submerged, jutted 
out twenty feet or so from this side of the island, 
making a detour necessary. After avoiding the 
obstacle, Rex’s first impulse was to cut toward 
the shore at an angle. Then something moved 
him to turn in directly, and a second or two 
later Wrenshall’s swift exclamation of startled 
amazement broke the silence : 

“Look, Rex ! The other canoe !” 

Kingdon made no comment, but his heart be- 
gan to pound unevenly as he swerved their own 
craft close beside the other that lay with one end 
resting on a narrow stretch of pebbly beach which 
seemed like a natural landing place. 

Dark as it was, the boy knew in an instant 
that Wrenshall had made no mistake. It was 
the canoe Starbuck and Lebaude had accompa- 
nied them in for the better part of the day’s 
journey. The dunnage lay packed amidships, 
just as all six had helped stow it away that 
morning. The paddles were tucked carefully be- 
tween the tarpaulin covered bundles and the sides 
of the craft, beyond any possibility of shaking 
loose. Everything seemed shipshape and in or- 
der, yet — where were the occupants? 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


35 


Kingdon sat motionless for no longer than it 
took an exploring hand to discover these simple 
facts. Then he stepped hastily ashore and, light- 
ing a match, made a more thorough examination. 
The canoe was not tied, but simply run up a lit- 
tle way on the gentle slope. There was a good 
deal of water in it that might have been shipped 
from the lake or been the result of the late down- 
pour. Lastly, striking matches to look, they 
could perceive no footprints either on the beach 
or further inland, where the soil was a soft loam. 
The recent storm, however, might have oblit- 
erated them. 

Bewildered and apprehensive, the two boys 
searched every inch of the island without dis- 
covering a sign of human presence. Back beside 
the canoes, they stood surveying one another 
queerly through the gloom. 

“I don’t understand what’s happened to them,” 
Wrenshall said almost in a whisper. 

“It’s got me, too,” confessed his companion. 
“I don’t see how both could go overboard with- 
out upsetting the canoe. If such a thing hap- 
pened, it might have drifted in here; but look 
at the paddles. If they ever really landed, where 
in mystery are they now?” 


36 


REX KINGDON 


For a moment or two there was silence. Then 
Wrenshall moistened his lips with his tongue. 

“What had we better do about it?” he asked 
a bit unsteadily. 

Kingdon hesitated an instant. “I think we’d 
better tow the canoe over to camp, put Jim and 
Nipper wise, and then start out again unham- 
pered. It’ll take only a few minutes longer, and 
it’s worth that short delay to be sure of our sup- 
plies. There’s no use staying here.” 

“Not a bit,” agreed Wrenshall. “We’ve gone 
over the place with a fine-tooth comb. I should 
say the sooner we were off the better.” 

Something akin to a panic seemed to have 
seized both of them at the same instant, making 
them eager to get away from the ill-omened 
island. Not a moment was lost in tying fast the 
deserted canoe to their own and paddling out of 
the shadow into the moonlight. They did not 
pause, but bent over their paddles until the craft 
fairly flew through the water. 

As the cheerful gleam of their campfire leaped 
into sight again, Kingdon straightened up. 

“That looks mighty nice and comfortable,” 
he commented aloud. “You get awful sick of 
this moonlight.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


37 


He kept his eyes fixed on the yellow glow, but 
failed to observe any passing shadows this time. 
Evidently Ware and Scotty were taking things 
easy. 

“Trying the balsam boughs in the leanto,” he 
decided a few minutes later, as he leaped out of 
the canoe and approached the fire. Aloud he 
went oh in brisk chiding : “You fellows certainly 
aren’t hurting yourselves work ” 

The words trailed away abruptly as he stared 
around with widening eyes. Beside him Wren- 
shall’s jaw dropped and his tanned face slowly 
turned the color of putty. 

The fire was burning briskly. The leanto had 
been well backed with boughs and the bottom 
filled with them to a depth of two feet. One or 
two of the packages had been opened and the 
contents spread about in orderly array, giving 
the camp a garnished look. But of the two lads 
who had done it all not a sign remained. Like 
Starbuck and Lebaude, they had vanished. 


38 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE SEARCH IN THE NIGHT. 

It was a full minute before either of the boys 
moved or spoke. Then Kingdon turned to his 
companion. 

“I wonder ” he began musingly, but 

stopped there, his glance seeking the ground be- 
side the fire. 

“Well?” queried Wrenshall with nervous im- 
patience. “Why don’t you finish?” 

Kingdon shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t 
quite see why they should play a trick like this.” 

“Think it’s a trick?” 

“I don’t see what else it can be. Probably they 
heard us coming and thought it would be a good 
joke to hide. Nipper’s a silly boob some- 
times.” 

Stepping forward, he shifted the position of 
some of the sticks on the fire, thereby improving 
the draught. Then he picked up the ax and 
walked over to the birch tree. But he did no 
chopping. Wrenshall was surprised to see the 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 39 

ax laid aside, and almost immediately the gleam 
from a pocket torch glimmered through the 
undergrowth. His name being called, Dick lost 
no time in responding, and found Rex examin- 
ing the ground beyond the fallen tree. 

“Reckon I was mistaken that time, old man,” 
said Kingdon, his voice expressive of repressed 
excitement. “Look there !” 

He threw the little circle of light downward, 
and Wrenshall’s eyes eagerly searched the 
ground. At first he could see only a few rather 
indistinct footprints made by stout, hobnailed 
boots such as the two boys had been wearing; 
but presently he realized that there were others, 
blurred and indistinct — alien marks of feet in 
moccasins. He caught his breath, striving to 
keep his expression calm, and glanced question- 
ingly at Kingdon. 

“There’s been somebody else here,” he said in 
a voice which was not entirely steady. 

Rex nodded. “And the fellows are evidently 
trailing him. Come.” 

Keeping the light on the ground, he moved 
away from the lake. Even Wrenshall, unversed 
as he was in woodcraft, could read some- 
thing of the story in the footprints. Moc- 


40 


REX KINGDON 


casined feet went first at a lope, which 
sometimes increased to a run. The man 
seemed to have traveled with the smooth, 
effortless ease of one entirely familiar with his 
locality. Always he kept the level, unobstructed 
way, leaving trees and tangled undergrowth for 
the hobnails stumbling after. The latter were 
running, too, if one could judge from the look 
of the trail, but in a manner which gave small 
promise that they would overtake the one pur- 
sued. 

For more than five minutes the two boys hur- 
ried through the woods in silence. Then King- 
don stopped abruptly, and the torch winked out. 
In the stillness .that followed Wrenshall was 
aware of a distant rustling which increased rap- 
idly, as if a person or large animal was coming 
straight in their direction. He wondered why 
Rex did not move out of the patch of moonlight 
in which he stood, and he even wished they had 
brought one of the guns along. When King- 
don’s shrill whistle, giving the school call, split 
the silence, Wrenshall jumped as if he had 
grasped a live wire. The prompt answer to the 
call brought a sheepish expression to his face 
and made him peer furtively at his companion. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


41 


Rex was giving his entire attention to the two 
lads who, at that moment, came into sight among 
the trees. 

“Well,” he questioned, “who w r as he?” 

“Ask me !” panted Scott with some heat. “He 
got away.” 

“Didn’t you get a look at him?” 

“Nary a glimpse. He went through the woods 
like a dog with a bunch of firecrackers tied to 
his tail.” 

“You bet!” agreed Ware, taking a long breath. 
“I saw a bit of his shadow when he was watch- 
ing us from behind the fallen birch, but that 
was the closest we ever came.” 

On the way back to camp the details of the 
affair were briefly narrated. After the depart- 
ure of the canoe, the two boys had worked briskly 
building up the fire, cutting boughs for the 
leanto, .and unpacking. They made considerable 
racket at this work, and in the sudden succeed- 
ing silence, while they sprawled on the pine 
boughs, they heard a slight rustling in the leaves, 
which brought them both up to investigate. Nip- 
per, probably by sheer luck, happened to spy the 
shadow back of the birch tree, and in a moment 
the chase was on. The boys had pursued en- 


42 


REX KINGDON 


tirely by sense of sound, and at no time had 
they a chance of overtaking the unknown. They 
simply followed as long as the sounds made by 
the departing man guided them; when those 
ceased they turned back. 

“Didn’t you call to him?” asked Kingdon. 

“Sure,” answered Scotty. “When Nip first 
got a glimpse of him through the trees he sung 
out to find out who he was and what he wanted ; 
but the fellow hit the high spots without answer- 
ing. I don’t see what he was after, snooping like 
that.” 

“And where did he come from?” added Ware 
quickly. “Buck told us there wasn’t even a log- 
ging camp on this part of the lake, didn’t he?” 

Kingdon nodded. He was thinking of that 
very remark of the missing Starbuck anent the 
absolute wildness of the region around the lake 
where they had planned to make their camp. The 
little frontier settlement of Tobique was up at 
the head of the lake, fourteen miles away, and 
back in the forest on the other side of the water 
were the headquarters of a small logging outfit; 
but the whole western shore was practically a 
primeval wilderness, undisturbed by even the 
“sports,” as the natives termed visiting hunters 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


43 


and fishermen. Therefore Rex found it impos- 
sible to account for the presence and curious be- 
havior of the unseen stranger. 

He did not have much time to spend trying to 
solve the problem. Already he had wasted 
many precious minutes that should have been 
devoted to searching for the missing boys. Back 
at camp, he hastened to give Scott and Ware a 
brief account of their failure at the island, and 
then turned to Wrenshall. 

“Seeing that this fellow’s snooping around, I 
reckon you’d better stay and look after things,” 
he said. “Nipper can go with me just as well.” 

Wrenshall agreed promptly, and they walked 
down to the canoes. They were so busy dis- 
cussing how much of the dunnage should be un- 
packed that neither of them noticed the ill-con- 
cealed anxiety of Ware. 

“I wouldn’t take out anything but the blankets 
and a little grub,” advised Kingdon, looking 
down at the dunnage in the canoe. “No matter 
what happens, we’ll leave here in the morning 
and ” He broke off abruptly, his eyes wid- 

ening. “By Jove!” he cried. “What a bright 
intellect I have! Those are the spare paddles, 
Dick! That’s the extra pair we brought, in case 


44 


REX KINGDON 


anything happened to the others. The ones 
they were using are gone !” 

“But where ” 

“I’ve no more idea than you have. The whole 
thing’s a staggering mystery. Come ahead, Nip. 
Don’t go to sleep! What’s the matter? Don’t 
you want to go?” 

“Wh-why, yes — of course,” stammered Nip- 
per flushing deeply. “I was just thinking, 
though, that I’m — er — not much use with the 
paddle. I haven’t been in a canoe more than 
half a dozen times in my life.” 

Kingdon frowned slightly, his glance search- 
ing Nipper’s face in the moonlight before shift- 
ing to Jim Scott. “How about you, Scotty?” he 
questioned. “Want to risk your life on the high 
seas with me?” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” said Scott, stepping 
quickly into the boat and taking up a paddle. 

Rex followed, and they pushed out upon the 
lake, turning southward at once. After a desul- 
tory conversation the talk grew more and more 
intermittent, finally ceasing altogether. In spite 
of his pretense to the contrary, Kingdon was 
desperately worried about the two missing boys. 
The mystery of their disappearance had been 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


45 


bad enough in the first place, but the realization 
of a few moments before that the paddles they 
had used were missing also, had added vastly to 
Rex’s anxiety. He felt almost certain now that 
there had been a spill of some sort. How it had 
come about he had no idea, and he could not 
understand in what manner the canoe had been 
drawn up on the shore of the island cove. But 
he did remember Lebaude’s notorious reckless- 
ness on the water — a recklessness which, more 
than once, had resulted in upsets. 

To have a starting point, Rex headed for the 
island. After circling it without seeing a sign 
of life they paddled southwest, taking a course in 
which any floating object would be driven by the 
wind. Approaching the shore they paddled 
slowly along, searching keenly for a glimmer of 
fire or any other signs of human beings, and paus- 
ing every now and then to send a shrill call echo- 
ing through the night woods. %/ 

Almost down to the portage they went with- 
out the stillness being once broken save by their 
shouts, the dip of their own paddles, and the 
slap of wavelets against the sides of the canoe. 
The return trip proved equally fruitless. The 
moon had swung across into the western sky and 


46 


REX KINGDON 


was beginning to pale before the glow of ap- 
proaching dawn by the time they put in to the 
bank below the campfire. Their anxious com- 
rades stepped out to meet them. 

In answer to eager questions, Kingdon told 
of the fruitless quest. Wrenshall and Ware 
stared at him in dismay. 

“What’s happened to them?” gasped the lat- 
ter in a frightened voice. “You don’t think ” 

“I’ve been thinking till I’m dizzy,” cut in Rex 
quickly. “The whole business has me wabbling. 
I only know they weren’t on the island and their 
canoe was. It looked to me as if they’d never 
even set foot ashore. There might have been a 
spill. They might both have gone overboard, you 
know, and the canoe drifted to the spot where 
we found it.” 

“But the canoe — it would have upset, wouldn’t 
it?” asked Nipper. 

“I’m not sure. Once on a time I got a spill 
out of a canoe and it didn’t turn over; it just 
shot out from under me and left me in the drink. 
But for that to happen to two chaps in the same 
canoe — it doesn’t seem likely.” 

“And if they did go out that way, why on 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


47 


earth wouldn’t they swim to the island?” ex- 
claimed Wrenshall. 

“Don’t you suppose I’ve been asking myself 
that very question all night ?” protested Kingdon 
with impatience. “I simply know they didn’t, 
and since that’s the case, the only alternative was 
the mainland.” With deliberate purpose he 
ignored the third gruesome possibility — that they 
might not have made land at all. 

“They couldn’t swim that far,” Wrenshall ob- 
jected. 

“Kent could,” asserted Rex positively. “He’s 
a regular duck in the water. Baudie’s not nearly 
so good, but together they should have made it.” 

“We ought to do something,” Wrenshall cried 
in a worried tone after a brief pause. “It doesn’t 
seem right to sit down and twiddle our thumbs.” 

Kingdon looked at him oddly for an instant. 
He smiled grimly. “I shouldn’t exactly call it 
twiddling thumbs,” he said. “Scotty and I have 
been fairly busy most of the night. I know how 
you feel, old man,” he went on in a different tone. 
“Sitting still is about the meanest way of pass- 
ing the time, but there’s no reason why you 
shouldn’t be up and doing directly. First of all, 
I think we’d better move over to the point, so 


48 


REX KINGDON 


the fellows will know where to find us. After 
that we can start out fresh to learn what’s be- 
come of them.” 

His tone, brisk and cheerful, seemed to bring 
encouragement to the other boys. The packing 
was accomplished in short order, and the two 
canoes were soon gliding along the shore toward 
the jutting point of land that had been their in- 
tended destination the night before. Nipper was 
with Kingdon, and Rex promptly began a lesson 
in the art of paddling which occupied his own 
mind as well as that of the younger boy, and 
kept him for the time being from worrying over 
the situation. 

The point — so far as any of the fellows knew 
it had no name — was a bold mass of rocks jutting 
prominently into the lake. On the southern side 
the banks were sheer and steep, but paddling 
around the end, they came upon a sheltered cove 
with a gentle sandy slope that made an ideal 
landing place. 

A cabin stood back among the trees some 
distance from the water. It was of logs, with a 
chimney at the further end, and looked uncom- 
monly solid and substantial for a hunter’s shack. 
The boys commented on this as they briskly ap- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 49 

proached it. Then, all at once, Kingdon discov- 
ered a wisp of smoke curling from the chimney. 

Puzzled, surprised, he halted. Unconsciously, 
the thought of the mysterious spy of the night 
before was in his mind. As he stared specula- 
tively at the building, the door swung open, and 
Kent Starbuck stood on the threshold, grinning 
cheerfully. 


50 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER V. 
starbuck’s story. 

A moment of petrified silence was broken by a 
concerted yell that made the echoes ring as the 
four boys flung themselves in a body on the lad 
in the doorway. 

“One of the lost babes!” they cried in mock 
displeasure, but with an undercurrent of fervent 
thankfulness. “Where have you been ?” “What 
do you mean by ducking out on the crowd?” 
“Where’s Baudie? What the deuce have you 
done with Baudie ?” 

“Shoot ’em over the plate one at a time,” be- 
sought Starbuck, smiling. “I didn’t duck out; I 
ducked in — to the lake. As for doing anything 
to Baudie; I wish you would. He’s to blame for 
it all, and if he’d got his due he’d be food for 
fishes instead of taking his ease before the fire 
in here.” 

The smiling, rosy-cheeked face of the Cana- 
dian boy appeared over Starbuck’s shoulder. 

“You mus’ not believe half what he say, fel- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


51 


lows,” he chuckled. “He has a mad-on against 
poor me. Eet was really not’ing but a’ accident 
that make me overspill out of the boat.” 

“Accident your grandmother!” retorted Star- 
buck with some heat. “It was your crazy jump- 
ing around that did it. You know the way he 
twists and turns,” he appealed to the others, 
“just as if he was in a flat-bottom scow instead 
of a canoe? Well, he did it once too often and 
went head over heels into the drink. I managed 
to stay in until he had to go and pull me after 
him when I tried to get him back over the bow.” 

“For the love of goodness,” put in Wrenshall 
hastily, “tell us why you swam to the mainland 
instead of the island.” 

“Swam !” exclaimed Starbuck in astonishment. 
“We didn’t swim; we went in a canoe.” 

“A canoe !” echoed Kingdon incredulously. 

Starbuck nodded, his face suddenly serious. 
“It wasn’t ours,” he explained. “I’m afraid, 
fellows, we’re in a bad hole. Our canoe, with all 
the dunnage, is at the bottom of the lake.” 

Wrenshall’s lips parted impulsively, but, hap- 
pening to catch Kingdon’s warning glance, he 
kept silent. Rex frowned with real displeasure. 

“That’s nice !” he commented gruffly. “But if 


REX KINGDON 


52 

you sunk your own canoe, who wafted you 
ashore?” 

“You’ve got me,” admitted Starbuck. “I 
haven’t any more idea than the man in the moon. 
The whole thing was the wildest experience I 
ever went through. Do you remember the last 
time you looked back, just after you circled the 
island ?” 

“Yes,” answered Kingdon. “You were a 
couple of hundred feet off shore.” 

“Just about. It was beginning to get dark. 
Perhaps half a minute later I gave Baudie a call 
for squirming around. He near had us upset. 
I might just as well have talked to a dummy 
for all the good it did. He did it again within 
two minutes.” He turned to glare accusingly 
at the Canadian boy who leaned smilingly against 
the doorcasing. 

“There was not one thought of the wrong in 
my mind, ol’ man,” protested Lebaude blandly. 
“I only look to see what she is that crosses the 
lake to come at us.” 

“Well, you did a fine stunt,” sniffed Starbuck. 
Then he grinned in spite of himself. “You ought 
to have seen him, fellows. It was neat, all right. 
He was paddling for dear life, but when he rose 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


53 


and looked back the canoe shot out from under 
him, and he took the most beautiful header you 
ever saw. I managed to keep right side up by 
quick work, and when he came up I was there, 
ready to pull him in over the end. It was tick- 
lish business, and I’d never have tried it but for 
the dunnage acting as ballast. I leaned ’way 
over the bow and got hold of him, and then the 
crazy loon tried to climb up over me. Of course 
I went out head first, and we both sank about 
two miles. I had no idea the lake was that 
deep anywhere. When we finally came up the 
canoe was gone — sunk, of course. But we 
weren’t more than fifty feet off shore, and I had 
started to swim in with Baudie when, all at once, 
another canoe shot around the end of the island 
and almost ran us down.” 

“Another one!” said Wrenshall in astonish- 
ment. “But who ” 

“Haven’t the least idea. There was only one 
man in it. His hat was pulled down over his 
face, and by that time it was too dark to see 
much of anything but a bushy beard. He was 
coming straight for us when I yelled, and he 
swerved ofif. Then I asked him to take us in 
to the island, where I thought we could wait till 


REX KINGDON 


you came back to look for us. He hesitated at 
first, but finally agreed, and told us how to climb 
in while he acted as counterbalance in the other 
end of the canoe. But he hadn’t taken more than 
a stroke or two toward the island when, of a 
sudden, letting out a snarl, he whirled the canoe 
around and dug for the mainland. Then I saw 
another canoe with three men in it skim round 
the end of the island and come after us.” 

“La ! la !” murmured Kingdon as the narrator 
paused momentarily. “Some doings on the trou- 
bled waters !” 

“Doings galore. There was a spare paddle 
aboard, and in two shakes our friend had me 
working it. We could just manage to keep our 
lead. The pursuers didn’t gain any, but we 
couldn’t seem to pull away from them. And all 
the time the storm was coming closer and closer 
and it was getting dark as a pocket. At last the 
canoe behind sort of faded out of sight, and pretty 
soon I could make out. the shadowy outline of 
trees along the shore. ‘Jump the minute we touch, 
both of you,’ ordered the man. ‘Run straight 
back from the lake, and don’t let ’em catch you.’ 

“Did we jump? Ask me! There didn’t seem 
to be much else to do. Baudie landed sprawling 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


55 


in some bushes, and I went up to my knees in 
muck. When we got untangled, our friend and 
the canoe had disappeared, and the other gang 
was almost on us. We went right away from 
there without further delay.” 

“Like a pair of simps,” said Kingdon. “They 
were after the other fellow, not you. If you’d 
only stayed where you were ” 

“That sounds logical now,” admitted Starbuck 
with a wide grin. “It was different last night, 
though. We didn’t know who or what they were, 
and we’d got all worked up trying to skin away 
from them in the canoe. It was thundering and 
lightning, and we were scared. So we ran, and 
somebody yelled something as we beat it. Then 
they shot at us. That helped us move along quite 
a lot faster, though sometimes our progress was 
interrupted when we tried to butt down a tree. 
In a couple of minutes the storm broke. After 
that we had our work cut out just trying to keep 
from being drowned.” 

“Jinks!” exclaimed Nipper Ware. “Didn’t 
you find anything to crawl under?” 

“Nothing but a tree, and that didn’t shed water 
to brag of. It came mighty near being struck 
by lightning, too. Oh, it was real lively and 


56 


REX KINGDON 


jolly! Anyhow, we got away, and we didn’t 
drown. When the storm began to let up we 
headed for the point where we thought you fel- 
lows would be.” 

“You must have traveled a long distance in- 
land to miss our campfire,” said Kingdon. 

Starbuck’s jaw dropped. “Caesar’s ghost !” he 
exclaimed. “Was that your fire! Oh, me! Oh, 
my ! Baudie and I saw it, but we were afraid it 
might be the crowd that had chased us, so we 
gave it a wide berth.” 

“Well, we’re all alive and together again, so 
what’s the use to bibble?” remarked Kingdon. 
“Everything considered, we’re all in luck. What 
sort of a place is this, anyhow?” he went on, 
stepping into the cabin and glancing around. 

The interior was empty of furniture and ex- 
ceedingly dirty ; but for all that it held not a lit- 
tle promise. The roof seemed tight and the chim- 
ney at the further' end, with the stone fireplace, 
in which a fire was burning briskly, certainly 
drew well. 

“Oh, pretty fair, pretty fair,” commented 
Wrenshall approvingly. “Let’s get our stuff up 
and cook breakfast. I’m empty as a bass drum.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


57 


“Breakfast!” exclaimed Starbuck incredu- 
lously. “Why, where ” 

“Oh, we’ve got a little something to masticate,” 
interrupted Rex airily. “I don’t know how far 
it will go, and I’ll be hanged if you two ought 
to have a nibble after the careless way you lost 
most of the dunnage. Still, if you’ll help carry 
it up ” 

“Lead me to it!” ejaculated Kent emphatically. 
“I could eat a fried bootleg. Wake up, Baudie!” 
He punched the Canadian lad vigorously in the 
ribs. “Grub in sight, old boy — and I thought 
we’d have to keep on starving till we’d brought 
something from Tobique.” 

With his face quite serious, Kingdon led the 
way down to the sandy landing place. Not until 
they were close to them did Starbuck see the two 
canoes drawn up side by side. He stopped short, 
his mouth and eyes open to their widest extent, 
his face full of incredulous w.onder. Lebaude’s 
surprise was equally comical, and the other boys 
fairly roared with laughter. Not until they had 
extracted the utmost possible enjoyment out of 
the situation did Kingdon volunteer an explana- 
tion. When he had finished, Starbuck drew a 
long breath. 


58 


REX KINGDON 


“I wish somebody’d kick me hard,” he mur- 
mured whimsically. “Think of the pesky thing 
being there all the time when I thought it had 
sunk! I suppose, when Baudie pulled me in, I 
gave it a push that sent it straight ashore. If 
I’d had any idea ” 

He stopped abruptly, an odd catch in his voice. 
Around the rocky headland of the point glided 
a canoe containing three men, all more or less 
hard looking. At the sight of the group of boys, 
looks of astonishment passed over their faces. 
Then one of them said something in a low tone 
to the others and, with a sweep of his paddle, 
sent the craft close inshore and brought it to a 
halt. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


59 


CHAPTER VI. 

A MAN WANTED. 

“Well!” growled the big, rough-hewn young 
fellow in the bow. “What are you chaps doin’ 
here?” His eyes came to rest on Kingdon’s face, 
and Rex returned his frowning look with pleas- 
ant blandness. 

“We’re picking out a summer hotel site,” said 
the boy. “Don’t you think this point would be a 
good one ?” 

The big youth started ; then he scowled blackly. 
“Fresh!” he grunted. “I s’pose you think that’s 
funny. I’ll bet you was the guy that was with 
Black Michaud last night. Where is he? You 
might as well come over with it, first as last.” 

“I won’t dispute you,” drawled Kingdon. 
“Arguments always are unpleasant. I’m afraid, 
though, I can’t oblige you in this case. I never 
even heard of your amiable friend before.” 

“No friend of mine!” snapped the fellow 
harshly. “He’s a curse to the country here- 
abouts. But he’s done for himself this time,” 
he went on, a gleam of malignant satisfaction 


60 


REX KINGDON 


in his eyes. “It’s one thing to smuggle stuff 
over the line and shoot game out of season, and 
another thing to break into a store and rob the 
till. He’ll get his. Still going to pretend you 
didn’t see him?” 

Kingdon’s lips continued to smile, but into his 
blue eyes crept a hard look. “Lying,” he said, 
“doesn’t happen to be my long suit. We started 
up from the portage yesterday to camp on this 
point. The storm delayed us, and we didn’t 
reach here till this morning. You’re the first 
human beings, besides my friends, that I’ve set 
eyes on since leaving Jud Harben’s. That’s 
straight from the shoulder, but whether you be- 
lieve it or not is a matter of absolute indiffer- 
ence to me.” 

Immediately the man in the bow began to 
blackguard Rex in a coarse and bullying manner, 
calling him a “sassy cub,” and threatening to 
come ashore and give him a proper thrashing. 
He had a violent 'temper, and there were serious 
indications that he meant to attempt to execute 
his threat, when a small, wrinkled, rather oldish 
man in the middle of the canoe interposed. 

“That’ll do, Jed,” he expostulated. “You 
started it, and you’d better stop it. If he says 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


61 


he ain’t seen Michaud, I reckon he ain’t. You’re 
goin’ to be here a while, ain’t you?” he asked, 
glancing at Kingdon. “Well, if you see anything 
of this fellow I’d be obliged if you’d let me know. 
My name’s Winkler, and I own the store at 
Tobique. Night before last Michaud broke in 
there and robbed the till of close on to a hundred 
dollars. I ain’t had nothin’ against him so long 
as he stuck to poachin’ and the like, but breakin’ 
and enterin’ and robbin’ tills is different.” 

His small, bright, deep-set eyes snapped as he 
regarded the boy questioningly. Instinctively 
Rex liked him as much as he detested the blatant, 
loud-mouthed person, whose domineering man- 
ner had caused the lad to refrain from mention- 
ing Starbuck’s experience of the night before. 
For a moment he was tempted to tell Winkler 
about it, but realizing there was nothing in the 
affair that would help them locate the thief, 
and fancying the admission might lead the man 
called Jed to accuse him of attempted deception, 
and thus bring on further trouble, he refrained. 

“Why, sure, Mr. Winkler,” he said readily. 
“We’ll be glad to help you out if we can give you 
any information that’ll be of assistance. What’s 
he look like?” 


62 


REX KINGDON 


“You can’t miss him,” returned the older man. 
“He’s got a mess of black whiskers and hair 
enough to stuff a mattress. He ain’t much to 
look at, but he sure has got a sudden temper, and 
he don’t stop at nothing. If you run across him 
and could manage to find out whereabouts in the 
woods he’s hidin’, that’s all I’d ask. Wouldn’t 
want you to take no chances by tryin’ to cap- 
ture him.” 

“Don’t worry, they won’t,” sneered Jed. “If 
that young squirt seen Black Michaud cornin’ he 
wouldn’t stop runnin’ in a week.” 

Rex smiled. “Some people always judge oth- 
ers by themselves/’ he commented serenely. 

This aroused the fellow again, and he was let- 
ting loose another volley of abuse when Winkler 
cut him short by advising him to “shut his trap 
and attend to business.” Then the old man called 
out a cheery good-by and the canoe headed up the 
lake, leaving the boys watching its departure. 

“Sweet tempered guy, that grouch in the bow,” 
remarked Wrenshall presently. 

“Sweet as a lemon !” agreed Kingdon with em- 
phasis. “I admire nice, refined people of his 
stamp! Somehow, I couldn’t seem to give him 
satisfaction by telling what Kent and Baudie ran 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


63 


tip against last night, though I haven’t a reason 
in the world for shielding this Michaud. Who is 
Michaud, anyhow, Buck?” 

Starbuck shrugged his shoulders. “A Canuck 
who’s lived in these parts for years. I reckon 
the old man’s right about his reputation. Every- 
body knows he shoots deer out of season and does 
a little smuggling on the side; but for all that, 
the game wardens and government inspectors are 
mighty careful to let him alone.” 

“Why?” asked Rex interestedly. “Are they 
afraid of being mistaken for a deer?” 

“Don’t guess again. They tell of two men 
trying at different times to get his scalp and 
never coming out of the woods again. They 
found what they supposed was one of them 
months afterward, and it’s said there was a bullet 
hole in his skull. After that there was a decided 
cooling of enthusiasm, and the Canuck was let 
alone. I reckon they thought a doe now and then 
out of season wasn’t worth risking their precious 
skins over.” 

“A ruffian like that ” began Wrenshall. 

“Beeg lot of lies !” cut in Lebaude vehemently, 
his face flushed an angry crimson. “Jus’ be- 
cause he choose to leeve by heemself in the woods 


64 


REX KINGDON 


and come not out to booze with the gang, they 
say all these stuff of him. What proof they 
have he shoot the men? I belief not a word of it. 
Jean Michaud he is not the man to shoot no- 
body in the back.” 

“Don’t get so agitated about it,” cautioned 
Kingdon. “How long have you been acquainted 
with this Michaud person?” 

Lebaude turned his snapping black eyes on the 
speaker. “I do not have to be acquaint’ to speak 
good word for heem. You forget he is my coun- 
tryman.” 

“You’ll have your hands full, Baudie, if you 
try to stand up for all the worthless Canucks 
in these parts,” laughed Dick Wrenshall. “Seems 
to me this one is a pretty bad egg, and probably 
he deserves all they say about him. If a man 
steals one way he will another, and smuggling 
and poaching are no more than certain ways 
of ” 

“Cut eet out!” snarled Lebaude in a sudden 
paroxysm of wrath. “You talk about what you 
know nothing of. Keep eet up and prit’ soon I 
light on you ” 

“Oh, come now !” protested Kingdon good-na- 
turedly, laying a hand on the Canadian’s arm. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


65 


“How foolish you are to fly up that way over a 
man you’ve never seen! Let’s drop the subject 
and raid the commissary’s supplies. Empty 
stomachs are making us all fretful and scrappy.” 

The suggestion awakened enthusiasm, and a 
raid was made immediately on the dunnage of 
the heavily laden canoe. For a few seconds Le- 
baude preserved his sullen humor. Then all at 
once his face cleared, and with a charming smile, 
he sprang to help in the work of carrying sup- 
plies up to the cabin. By the time two trips had 
been made he was his old good-humored self 
again. 

“By the way, Baudie,” said Starbuck as they 
gathered up some wood to replenish the fire, 
“how’d you come to call Michaud Jean? Is that 
his name?” 

Lebaude turned a bland and smiling face upon 
his friend. “Did I call heem that?” he drawled 
carelessly. “Then mebbe it ees his name. Per- 
haps I hear it some place.” 

“Maybe you have,” muttered Kent under his 
breath. “But it’s rather funny that in all the 
times I’ve been up here, I never heard him called 
anything but Black Michaud.” 


66 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE FEEEOW WHO WENT AWAY. 

“You can’t swim?” ejaculated Rex Kingdon 
in disapproving astonishment. “Why don’t you 
wait till you raise whiskers before you learn? I 
see where my work’s cut out for me, all right. 
Where are your tights?” 

“I — I didn’t bring any,” stammered Nipper 
Ware nervously. “It won’t be any use wasting 
your time, Rex. I can’t learn — honest, I can’t. 
It just isn’t in me.” 

Seeing a skeptical expression in his friend’s 
face, Nipper went on to point out an explanation 
of his infirmity, as he had come to consider it. 
When he had finished, Kingdon nodded under- 
standingly. 

“I see,” he said, without a symptom of his 
habitual chaffing manner. “It’s mighty hard 
lines, but there ought to be some way of get- 
ting around it. I’m going to help you. Get out 
of your duds, and we’ll go over to the landing 
place, where the water’s not more than eighteen 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


67 


inches deep. You couldn’t drown there if you 
tried to.” 

Nipper obeyed, but with reluctance that was 
apparent in each slow, dawdling movement. 

“I don’t see much good in swimming, anyhow,” 
he objected as he fussed around over the usually 
simple task of undressing. “Most of the drown- 
ing accidents you read about happen to good 
swimmers.” 

“Who told you so much?” inquired Rex, one 
eyebrow lifted with an odd quirk. “How’d you 
acquire that interesting information?” 

“Out of the papers,” answered Ware, catching 
the sarcasm in his companion’s voice. “And — 
oh, well, you hear about those things all the 
time.” 

“Maybe so, but it’s gulf just the same,” King- 
don averred. “The trouble is that lots of fel- 
lows who can only about half swim think they 
are wonders, and start taking chances in the 
water. When something does happen through 
their making fools of themselves, the report goes 
out that another good swimmer has drowned.” 

“Still,” persisted Nipper, talking to put off 
the dreaded moment, “I don’t have to go in the 
water; I can keep away from it if ” 


68 


REX KINGDON 


“Oh, yes, of course !” cut in Rex. “You could 
also keep off the ground by staying in bed all 
your life. Quit stalling, Nip, and shed the rest 
of those clothes. Some day you’ll heap benisons 
— whatever they are — on my head for what I am 
making you do.” 

Unable to think of any further arguments, and 
also a little afraid of continuing to oppose his 
friend, the little fellow dropped his last garment 
and stepped reluctantly toward the beach. 

“Hold up a bit,” requested Rex as the unwill- 
ing pupil dabbled a toe in the water. “I want to 
get you wise to the strokes. Though most per- 
sons don’t know it, a greenhorn really should get 
a pretty clear idea of the rudimentary movements 
of swimming before he goes into the water. 
(How’d I ever happen to think of that word 
rudimentary!) Flop face down on this boulder 
and do as I tell you.” 

Thankful for even this momentary respite, 
Nipper obeyed. He was not in the least slow 
mentally, and within half an hour he had mas- 
tered the movements of the simpler strokes. He 
actually showed interest in the lesson while it 
was conducted on dry land, but when the time 
came for practical application, his fears returned 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


69 


and obsessed him again. Venturing into no more 
than eighteen inches of water was an unpleasant 
ordeal, and he was shaking with nervousness as 
he followed Kingdon into the shallows. 

Rex didn’t laugh or jeer, as many other fel- 
lows had done under similar conditions. He 
waited for Ware to come up, and then he placed 
one hand encouragingly on the youngster’s bare 
shoulder. 

“First thing, Nip,” he said in a matter-of-fact 
manner, “I want you to remember that I’m not 
going to play any tricks on you. I’m not going 
to duck you ; I won’t let your chin go under water, 
or anything like that. So you can cut out think- 
ing about it and put your mind altogether on 
following my instructions.” 

Nipper understood perfectly, yet, while there 
was considerable satisfaction in the knowledge 
that he could place complete confidence in his in- 
structor, he still felt far from comfortable. His 
dread of the water was so deeply ingrained that 
it had become instinctive and almost beyond the 
power of control by reason. He knew he could 
not possibly drown, and he was not afraid of 
being ducked, yet the half hour which followed, 
with the possible exception of one experience in 


70 


REX KINGDON 


a dentist’s chair, was one of the most uncomfort- 
able he had ever spent. When it was over he 
gave an unconscious sigh of relief that brought 
a momentary smile to Kingdon’s lips. 

“You’ll get it all right in time, old fellow,” 
Rex asserted reassuringly. “It’s a matter of ac- 
quiring confidence, and almost as soon as you 
forget to be afraid you’ll begin to learn. Won- 
der where Baudie is going all by himself?” he 
speculated, reaching the summit of the point 
from which the other fellows had been diving, 
and perceiving the French Canadian lad pad- 
dling away in a canoe. 

“Fishing, I reckon,” returned Jim Scott. 
“Don’t believe he’ll get much, though. They 
don’t bite this time of day, do they?” 

“Bite?” repeated Kingdon seriously. “Around 
here they do. The report is that they’re so vi- 
cious in this lake you have to hide behind a tree 
to bait your hook. I’ll beat you under water, 
Scotty.” 

“You will like fun!” retorted the challenged 
lad, whirling round and taking a fine running 
dive from the rock. 

Kingdon was almost as swift, and both fellows 
shot beneath the surface, leaving Nipper to fol- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


71 


low their progress through the clear water with 
half envious, half shrinking gaze. 

“My! I wish I could do that,” Ware muttered 
as Scott came up blowing and spluttering. 

Not for an instant did it occur to him that he 
ever could. He appreciated Kingdon’s ef- 
forts in his behalf, but he felt that they were 
wasted — he could never conquer his gripping 
horror of the water. And perhaps, deep down 
in his heart, there was a touch of consoling pride 
in the feeling that he was the least bit different 
from other boys; that he was the possessor of 
more refined feelings, more high-strung nerves. 

Having dried himself in the sun, Nipper got 
into his clothes and went up to the cabin to start 
dinner. The boys cooked in relays, and pres- 
ently Wrenshall hustled in to take his share of 
the work. There was a nice mess of trout 
cleaned and ready to fry, and in half an hour 
they had served up a most appetizing meal that 
drew the others irresistibly from their various 
occupations and made them fall to without wait- 
ing for the still absent Lebaude. 

“If he can’t be on time for meals let him eat 
the leavings,” said Wrenshall with a touch of 
temper. Since the flare-up of the previous day 


72 


REX KINGDON 


he had been noticeably disagreeable toward the 
Canadian lad. “I don’t know why anybody 
wants to start of? half an hour before dinner, 
anyhow.” 

“We should worry and lose our appetites,” 
laughed Kingdon. “It’s his loss. What a mis- 
take we made in getting this shack to camp in !” 
he went on, glancing at Starbuck. “It’s corking, 
fellows. If Bruce Brigham only knew what he’s 
missing, he’d be twice as sore because his scheme 
for coming with us fell through.” 

“Don’t mention that sorehead,” begged Star- 
buck. “He and Dell Vickers showed themselves 
up for a pair of dubs by trying to put you in bad 
when you first came to Ridgewood. I wonder 
if Bruce really thought we’d turn you down for 
the pleasure of their society?” 

Rex shrugged his shoulders. “You might have 
got a lot more fun with them along, but it’s too 
late now. You couldn’t chase me back to Ridge- 
wood with a loaded gun. Once I get into the 
woods it seems as if I never want to return to 
the enfeebling shackles of civilization. Didn’t 
I say a whole mouthful then?” 

“I wonder how a fellow would feel if he 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


73 


couldn’t go back?” said Jim Scott thoughtfully. 
“Would he be so crazy about it then?” 

“Couldn’t go back?” cried Dick Wrenshall. 
“What do you mean by that, Scotty? People 
don’t have to stay in the woods if they don’t 
want to.” 

“Don’t they !” retorted Scotty impulsively. 
“That shows how much you know about it. My 
cousin ” 

He paused, a slow flush tinging his face. The 
others looked at him in curious expectancy as 
his color deepened. Finally he squared his shoul- 
ders and threw back his head with an odd gesture 
of defiance. 

“I don’t know why I shouldn’t speak of him,” 
he said brusquely. “He did nothing to be 
ashamed of. He was in a bank down at Port- 
land. About a year ago a package of bonds was 
stolen from the vaults and the blame was put on 
him. It was a bad case. He couldn’t prove his 
innocence, and he ran away when he found they 
were going to arrest him. Detectives trailed him 
as far as Moosehead, and there every trace of 
him was lost. He went into the woods and never 
came out again as far as anybody knows. Lots 
of people think he made his way to Canada and 


74 


REX KINGDON 


fled to some other country, but I’ve a notion that 
he never left the wilderness. I’ve often thought 
of him and wondered if he didn’t get awful sick 
of roughing it, and want to get back home.” 

“I’ll admit,” said Kingdon at once, “that his 
case is different. I suppose a fellow would get a 
touch of what we classy people designate as ennui 
or nostalgia if he had to linger in the backwoods 
perforce. (In case anyone fails to grasp my 
fluent flow of language, I refer him to a handy 
work of reference by the late Noah Webster.) 
It’s human nature to hate anything that’s forced 
on one. What makes you so sure he’s still in 
the woods, Scotty? Has any of your family 
heard from him since he hit the elevated spots?” 

“Not a word; and the worst of it is that he 
doesn’t have to stay away, if he only knew it. 
The real thief confessed two months ago, so now 
there’s not a suspicion against Dan.” 

There were general exclamations of surprise 
and interest, and for some little time the singular 
and unpleasant situation of Dan Markham 
formed the subject of conversation. The major- 
ity did not agree with Scott. To them it seemed 
impossible that a man could remain hidden for a 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


75 


whole year, even in the North Woods, when 
sought by efficient detectives. 

“They’d have caught him inside of three 
months,” asserted Wrenshall. “Everybody 
knows it’s harder to hide in unsettled districts 
than in big cities. Take it from me, Jim, he’s 
slipped away to Canada, and maybe disguised 
himself and sailed to Europe or South America.” 

“Then why hasn’t he seen the stuff in the news- 
papers about the fellow confessing?” retorted 
Scott. “The papers made a big story of it.” 

Wrenshall pointed out how easy it was to miss 
any particular news item, especially in foreign 
countries where the home papers are few and 
far between; but Scotty stuck to his belief, and 
presently the discussion ended when they began 
making plans for the afternoon. 

Some of the boys wished to fish, and their re- 
marks on Lebaude’s nerve in appropriating one 
of the two canoes for his own exclusive use be- 
trayed annoyance. Three was the greatest num- 
ber who could comfortably and safely fish from 
one craft, while two was even better. For a 
time it looked as if they would have to abandon 
the idea of doing any fishing, but Kingdon finally 
decided to go off by himself with his camera, 


76 


REX KINGDON 


and Nipper, only too ready to seize any excuse 
that would keep him off the water, proposed to 
write a letter to be mailed from Tobique at the 
first opportunity. This left the others free to. use 
the remaining canoe, and presently they de- 
parted, bragging of the sizeable catch they in- 
tended to bring back. 

Ten minutes later Rex struck off through the 
woods carrying his camera, tripod, and several 
odd arrangements of springs and cord. With 
him the apparatus took the place of shotgun or 
rifle. He was too keen a naturalist not to find 
more satisfaction in the photograph of some 
wild creature obtained with difficulty and a dis- 
play of patience, than in the head or horns or 
limp carcass of that same bird or animal when 
brought down by a bullet. 

He was setting out on a reconnoitering expe- 
dition to look the ground over and discover its 
possibilities, but if the opportunity for a good 
picture arose he was not willing to let it pass. 
He did not look for such an opportunity, and his 
surprise at stumbling on fresh signs of deer was 
correspondingly great. He had walked, perhaps, 
three miles in a southwesterly direction before 
coming upon the tracks which led toward the 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


77 


lake, and had been made by several animals. Rex 
examined them interestedly, regretting that he 
had not arrived a little sooner. Still studying 
the trail, which was almost like a beaten path, he 
walked a short distance toward the lake until, 
all at once, a sound from the other direction 
halted him, alert and listening. 

He could hear the distant cracking of dead 
twigs, and even as he listened, his eyes, from 
force of habit, surveyed his surroundings and 
he speculated on the possibility of getting a 
snapshot picture of the unknown creature. When 
the crackling sounded again he moved hastily 
and silently behind some bushes. Here he set up 
the tripod with swift dexterity. It took but a 
moment, the camera being already screwed in 
place and the cord attached to the shutter. He 
had scarcely adjusted the apparatus and stepped 
still further back amid the undergrowth when 
he realized, with a little thrill of excitement, that 
the noise was not being made by a four-footed 
animal. 

“Hanged if it isn’t a man!” he muttered in 
disappointment. “And now I prefer a gun to a 
camera.” 

The sounds, growing plainer, were the steps 


78 


REX KINGDON 


of someone walking briskly and without the least 
attempt at caution. One hand gripping the cord, 
Rex bent forward eagerly, peering through the 
leaves. He thought of Black Michaud and felt 
a queer little tickling sensation at the back of his 
neck. He thought, too, of Scotty’s outlaw cousin, 
who might have penetrated to these out-of-the- 
way woods. What an odd trick of fate it would 
be to learn from the relative of whose proximity 
he was wholly ignorant that he was no longer 
a hunted man ! 

Suddenly a slim, dark figure pushed through 
the bushes to the open space on which the cam- 
era was focused. Involuntarily Rex pressed the 
bulb operating the noiseless shutter. Then he 
caught a glimpse of the other person’s face and 
drew his breath with a swift intake of bewilder- 
ment. 

The individual whose photograph he had just 
snapped was his own friend and campmate, Louis 
Lebaude ! 



Involuntarily Rex pressed the bulb operating the noiseless 
shutter . — Page 78 . 









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IN THE NORTH WOODS 


79 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CABIN IN THE WOODS. 

Kingdon smothered his first impulse to call 
after the departing lad. Baudie, hot-tempered 
and sensitive, might imagine he had been spied 
upon. Therefore, before shutting up his tripod 
and stepping forth from the bushes, Rex waited 
until the sound of footsteps died away. 

There was something decidedly queer about 
the affair. To begin with, it had been odd 
enough for the Canadian lad, usually fond of 
fun and company, to slip away in the canoe with- 
out a word to anyone; and now here he was, al- 
most a mile inland, coming out as if returning 
from some definite place to which he had gone 
with an equally definite purpose. 

For several minutes Rex pondered. A glance 
at his watch showed that it was half past two. 
He had left camp before one, but his progress 
through the woods had been slow and leisurely, 
hampered as he was with the camera. He was 
sorry he had brought it. Presently he turned and 


80 


REX KINGDON 


walked back along the trail until the spot was 
reached where he had first come upon it. Then 
he flung hesitation aside. Placing tripod and 
camera carefully against a big hemlock in such a 
position that he could not fail to see them on his 
return, he set out briskly along the route which 
Lebaude had evidently followed. 

This was almost like a path, faintly defined 
to be sure, yet far easier to follow than a blind 
trail. At first it appeared not unlike a path worn 
by animals traveling to water, such as Rex had 
seen at various times in woods; but to the puz- 
zled boy it seemed that there was no occasion for 
deer or any other creatures to pursue such a 
fixed course. The forest was comparatively open, 
with scattered herbage; and as if to show the 
futility of going to the lake for water, the path 
presently came to a sparkling stream, the bank 
of which it followed. 

It was a beautiful little brook, rippling over 
mossy rocks and brushed by the tips of drooping 
ferns and trailing vines. Rex found delight in 
it, for to him the stream had as much character 
as many a human being. The forest, with its 
cool shadows and restful stillness, fascinated 
him. At first it was rather open, showing here 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


81 


and there little glades full of tangled under- 
growth. Overhead could be caught glimpses of 
the warm blue sky, across which lazily floated 
drifting clouds, thick and bunchy and soft look- 
ing, masses like downy feathers or fresh-picked 
cotton. 

As he pushed on, however, the character of the 
scene changed slowly. Little by little the under- 
growth became thinner and the trees pressed 
closer together, blotting out the glades and open 
spaces. Ere long these trees grew taller, 
straighter, more magnificent. Like columns ris- 
ing grandly from a swept floor they towered 
upward, their interwoven branches making a 
thick canopy of green which shut out sunlight 
and sound in a manner almost uncanny. At rare 
intervals a golden flicker found some tiny open- 
ing in that almost impenetrable roof; it drifted 
slantwise athwart the huge rough trunks to make 
a quivering spot of warmth on the brown carpet 
of needles that covered the ground and muffled 
the sound of the lad’s hurrying footsteps. 

Presently Rex drew a long breath, almost a 
sigh. To him a forest of primeval pine was one 
of the most beautiful sights on earth, but en- 
joyment of its beauty was always tinged with 


82 


REX KINGDON 


troubled apprehension. In government reserva- 
tions only were these colossal giants really 
safe. Elsewhere greedy hands were sure, sooner 
or later, to stretch out in their direction — money- 
grubbing hands, deadly in their purpose. 

More than once Rex had seen the havoc 
wrought by the ruthless methods of commercially 
minded lumbermen, and he could picture vividly 
the destruction a few months of such work would 
bring about in these splendid untouched forests. 
Those sturdy, serried ranks, which had battled 
valiantly against the storms and tempests of cen- 
turies, would give place to desolate “slashings” 
of endless stumps, splintered old trunks, lopped 
limbs and entangled branches. Here and there 
in the desolation a few trees would be left stand- 
ing — weak, crooked specimens, rearing their 
misshapen heads above the general destruction 
like deformed sentinels — shivering, bending, 
breaking under fhe terrific force of winter storms, 
and slowly dying as if from loneliness. 

Kingdon shivered a little and thrust the un- 
pleasant picture from his mind. At least the 
calamity was not yet in sight, and he hoped that 
before that time came saner conservation meth- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


85 


ods of forestry would be in vogue among the 
lumbermen. 

Through the dim, shadowy forest aisles, he 
advanced, his mind shifting again to the enigma 
which had brought him here. The trail was still 
clear and easy to follow, but presently it left 
the rippling stream and turned to the left, climb- 
ing a gradual slope that increased in steepness. 
Where was he going and what would he find 
at the end of the path? Rocks and boulders be- 
gan to appear on either side. The pines, instead 
of becoming more sparse, seemed to crowd closer, 
muffling and veiling the light until it was a sort 
of twilight gloom. Rex was beginning to grow 
discouraged when suddenly he came round a 
mass of granite and found himself on the edge 
of a little cleared plateau that registered instantly 
on his mind an impression of the most depress- 
ing sort. 

Before him, towering sheer and straight to 
an indefinite height, was the rocky shoulder of a 
mountain. It seemed almost to overhang the 
small clearing, and on every other side the great 
pines grew so thick that Rex almost doubted 
whether a single ray of sunlight ever penetrated 
to this shadowy spot. 


84 


REX KINGDON 


The rocks were gray and lichen-covered. 
Gray-green moss coated the tree trunks, soften- 
ing their ruggedness and giving them an added 
look of age. Underfoot, countless seasons of 
falling needles had spread a carpet of incredible 
thickness out of which protruded here and there 
gaunt bits of fallen branches, bleached silver 
gray with age. 

It was all so still and so shadowy that King- 
don’s first swift glance failed entirely to take in 
the hut. A slower and more searching look 
around showed it huddled close under the mas- 
sive precipice, gray and blank and rugged as the 
rocks surrounding it on every side. 

“What a place for anyone to live!” muttered 
the awe-struck boy. 

A moment later he realized that, while some- 
one might have lived there once, the place did 
not have the look of being occupied at present. 
It was constructed of stone and logs, all of which 
seemed to have turned a uniform color with the 
rocks behind. On the north side, a rude chimney 
rose a couple of feet above the flat, mossy roof, 
but no smoke issued from it. 

A closer inspection showed that the hut had 
been built against the cliff, the face of which 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


85 


formed one of the walls. A stout door was se- 
cured by a heavy hasp and padlock. Around 
the corner opposite the chimney a small square 
window was covered by a solid shutter. Rex 
tried it and found it quite immovable. Evidently 
the place was deserted. He had a feeling, some- 
how, that it had been deserted a long time, and 
wondered whether he might not have made a 
mistake in supposing Lebaude had ever come 
there. 

A few seconds later he learned that he had 
not been mistaken. Out of the rocks, a few feet 
from the cabin, bubbled a clear spring — oozed 
would be the better word, for it came forth with 
a sluggish quiet which quite failed to disturb 
the stillness of the gloomy spot. It filled a small 
basin and around its rim grew a few delicate 
ferns and trailing green things. Amid this foli- 
age Kingdon discovered a pearl-handled knife. 

He recognized it before reading the initials 
engraved on the plate. Baudie had been here 
without a doubt. When he stooped to drink from 
the pool the knife had doubtless fallen from his 
pocket and remained unnoticed among the ferns. 

But why had he come there? The question 


86 


REX KINGDON 


obsessed Kingdon ; he stood staring at the bauble 
in his hand. What had the Canadian lad ex- 
pected to find in this gloomy fastness — or whom ? 
Last of all, how had he made his way so easily 
into such a remote nook of the wilderness? 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


87 


CHAPTER IX. 
still more mystery. 

Rex might have continued asking himself 
questions he could not answer for some time, had 
he not chanced to glance at his watch and dis- 
cover how late it was. Immediately he slipped 
the knife into a pocket and, without another mo- 
ment’s delay, left the glade and hurried down 
the slope. It was easier taking the down grade, 
but for all of that he had not started a minute 
too soon. In spite of an almost abnormal knack 
of finding his way through the woods, he had 
some trouble about recovering his camera in the 
gathering dusk, and did not reach the camp on 
the point until it was nearly pitch dark. 

Of course supper was over, and the boys greet- 
ed him with a chorus of reproof, the severity 
of which was somewhat tempered by real anxiety 
that some of them had felt about him. He turned 
it all off in his light and facile manner and pro- 
ceeded at once to hunt up food and satisfy an 
uncommonly sharp appetite. Yet, even while he 


88 


REX KINGDON 


ate, he was covertly watching Lebaude, and it 
did not take long to observe that the high-spirited 
Canadian lad was distinctly sober and thought- 
ful. 

“What sort of luck did you have, fellows?” 
suddenly inquired Rex as he was devouring 
his satisfactory supper. “I suppose you got a 
monster, Scotty — and then he slipped the hook?” 

“A whale,” declared Scott, who was noted for 
the size of the fish he didn’t catch. “Biggest 
one in the lake, I’ll bet. He was so heavy he 
took the hook right off the line.” 

“Now wasn’t that a shame!” chuckled Rex. 
“How’d you make out, Baudie?” 

Lebaude glanced up with a slight start, a 
rather bewildered look on his face. “Make out?” 
he repeated slowly. “Oh! You mean with ze 
feesh? I hav’ ze mos’ bad luck. I catch not 
one.” 

“You should have spit on your bait. Where’d 
you go?” 

Lebaude shrugged. “Oh, down ze lake,” he 
returned vaguely. “Likely I not fin’ ze right 
grounds, yes?” 

“Perhaps that was the reason,” Kingdon said 
rather grimly. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


89 


Evidently Baudie meant to keep silent concern- 
ing that inexplicable inland digression. Present- 
ly Rex began to feel a trifle indignant at the 
lad’s secretive attitude, not because of a desire 
to pry into another’s private affairs, but they 
were on a pleasure trip in such friendly intimacy 
that he could imagine no situation or difficulty 
arising about which any one of them would not 
consult the others. It made him a bit uncom- 
fortable to think it possible that Lebaude might 
be sneaking off alone into the woods, perhaps 
to hold communication with a person or per- 
sons of whom his comrades knew absolutely noth- 
ing. 

It was this touch of indignation, coupled with 
the fact that Ihe roll in his camera held only one 
unexposed film, that led Kingdon to snap his 
grouped chums soon after breakfast next morn- 
ing, and then bring out his developing machine. 
He was curious to know what Lebaude would say 
when confronted with his photograph taken in 
the woods at least a mile from the lake after he 
had intimated, if not actually stated in so many 
words, that he had not left his canoe. 

While the others busied themselves in various 
ways about the camp, Rex carried his developing 


90 


REX KINGDON 


paraphernalia down to the lake, mixed the chemi- 
cals and proceeded to run the film through the 
machine. As soon as he took them out he saw 

i 

that the exposures were all good, but it was not 
until they were in the fixing bath that he exam- 
ined the particular picture about which he ,was 
so curious. As well as the others, that one was 
clear and distinct, even though it had been taken 
in the woods; for Rex had one of the finest 
lenses to be bought. His face lit up with a half 
smile, and then suddenly he bent his head and 
stared intently at the negative, his eyes full of 
puzzled curiosity. 

The photograph was in profile, and as a like- 
ness of Lebaude it was unmistakeable. But it 
was not that which aroused Kingdon’s interest; 
it was something the Canadian boy held in his 
hand. It seemed roughly oval with a regular 
dark edge almost like a frame, but in the film 
the flat, mottled surface was too indistinct to 
make anything of. To Rex it looked like a fair 
sized framed portrait photograph, but the possi- 
bility of Baudie’s obtaining such a thing in the 
wilderness was so absurd that he laughed aloud. 

“I’ll have to wait and see how it looks in the 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 91 

print,” he murmured. “It’s got me woozling, 
all right.” 

The strip of film was pinned against the back 
of the cabin to dry, and Rex joined the rest of 
the party. Two hours later, however, he went 
down to the lake again with printing frame and 
freshly dried films and made haste to gratify his 
curiosity. After exposing the negative he slid 
it into the developer and bent over to watch the 
detail flash up. For a moment or two he sat 
keenly scrutinizing, before his eyes widened in 
amazement. 

“Now fan me!” he exclaimed aloud. “It is a 
picture — a woman’s picture! Will you kindly 
inform me what Baudie was doing with a thing 
like that — up here ?” 

“What are you mumbling about, anyhow?” 
inquired a voice behind him. “Picture on the 
blink?” 

Kingdon turned to see Kent Starbuck strolling 
toward him, his hands thrust deep in the pockets 
of his khaki trousers. For an instant Rex hesF 
tated. Then he came to a sudden decision. 

“Were you around yesterday when Baudie 
showed up?” he asked. 


92 


REX KINGDON 


Starbuck nodded. “I was up in front of the 
shack with the rest.” 

“Was he carrying anything?” 

“What do you mean? He had his rod and 
landing net.” 

“He didn’t have a picture? Your eagle eyes 
would have noticed a framed picture if he’d been 
toting it.” 

Starbuck grinned. “I seldom miss anything 
worth seeing. What’s the joke, old man? I 
don’t seem to get it.” 

“Here’s something worth seeing,” returned 
Kingdon, shaking the hypo from the print before 
he passed it to his friend. “What do you think 
of that? I snapped it yesterday afternoon about 
three miles south of camp.” 

Starbuck stared at it. “Why, it’s Baudie!” 
he exclaimed. “I thought he was fishing. 

What’s the Well, I’ll be blistered! It’s the 

picture of a woman, isn’t it? Who is she, I won- 
der? And where do you s’pose he got it?” 

“He couldn’t have brought it from home with 
him ?” questioned Kingdon. 

“What for? With none of us bringing a 
single thing more than we absolutely had to, he’d 
hardly be lugging a framed picture that looks 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


93 


at least ten inches the longest way. Besides, 
some of us would sure have spotted it before this. 
What’s he say about it himself?” 

“Haven’t interviewed him.” Kingdon’s eyes 
ranged over to where Lebaude was rough-hous- 
ing with Nipper Ware and Scott. “I think I will 
now, though. Baudie ! Come over a second.” 

The Canadian lad glanced up, and, seeing Rex 
beckon, left the others and briskly crossed the 
rocks. He was gay and smiling, with no trace of 
his seriousness of the night before. Looking into 
the unsuspecting boy’s laughing eyes, Rex was 
conscious of a sudden mild distaste for the self- 
imposed duty, and he couldn’t help feeling that 
he was meddling with something that was none 
of his business. Had he been alone, he might 
have backed down ; but with Starbuck present, he 
stiffened his resolution to carry the thing through. 

“I’ve got a question that’s giving me some 
pain, Baudie,” he said carelessly, “and I want to 
fire it at you.” 

“Shoot,” smiled the vivacious lad. “Let her 
come. I am charm’ to answer anyt’ing.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be. We’ve been wondering 
where you happened to pick up that picture you 
had yesterday.” 


94 


REX KINGDON 


As if he had been struck, Lebaude’s face turned 
white, then flaming crimson. His lids fluttered 
nervously and drooped. His hands clenched. 

“I What you mean by picture ?” he stam- 

mered at last. “I got no — picture yesterday.” 

“Then you’ve got a case for libel against my 
camera,” purred Kingdon suddenly handing him 
the damp print. “What’s that in your hand, if 
it’s not the framed photograph of a woman?” 

Lebaude stared at the print for an instant be- 
fore he flashed an indignant glance at Rex. 

“You took this — yes?” he snapped angrily. “I 
fin’ eet hard to beliefe.” His lips curled, and 
there was an indignant glint in his black eyes. 
“How long since you turn yourself to a spy?” 

It was Kingdon’s turn to color faintly. “I did 
nothing of the sort,” he protested. “I had my 
camera set up for what I fancied was a deer, 
and when you walked past I snapped you for a 
joke. I wondered what took you back into the 
woods to fish. When I developed this morning 
I saw the thing in your hand for the first time.” 

“I know not’ing of her,” said Lebaude with stiff 
dignity. 

“But surely,” put in Starbuck abruptly, “a 
picture — in a frame ” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


95 


“Eet is not a picture,” denied Lebaude tem- 
perishly. “How could she be? Where would I 
get it, a picture? I cut some birch-bark back in 
woods. Mebbe it ees what you make into a pic- 
ture with your imagination.” 

He turned sharply and strode away, leaving the 
two boys gazing at each other questioningly. 
Kingdon retrieved the print which Baudie had 
scornfully tossed to the ground, and studied the 
details carefully. He was more than willing to 
give the Canadian lad the benefit of a doubt, 
but, try as he would, he could not doubt. 

“If that’s birch-bark, my hat’s the roof of a 
nut factory,” he said at last. “The mottled part 
of a piece of bark might chance to photograph 
like a picture, but I can’t make that regular black 
edge look like anything but a frame.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Kent. “I’m afraid he’s 
putting something over, though I’ll be jiggered if 
I can see why.” 

For a moment Kingdon did not answer. He 
had turned slightly and was staring with odd in- 
tensity at a spot on the deep curving shore line 
to the south of their point. 

“I suppose,” he said at length somewhat ab- 
sently, “that he doesn’t want us to know any- 


96 


REX KINGDON 


thing about it, that’s all. Getting right down to 
brass tacks, it really isn’t any of our business 
that- ” 

He paused an instant, his eyes narrowing, his 
whole face taking on an added touch of keen- 
ness. When he went on speaking it was in pre- 
cisely the same tone he had used before, but 
the subject was quite different: 

“You brought a pair of binoculars, didn’t you, 
old man?” 

“Yep,” answered Starbuck. “I haven’t seen 
them since we struck the cabin, but they must 
be in the dunnage somewhere. Want ’em?” 

“Bring them out, but don’t go off on a tear 
to get them,” urged Kingdon quietly, picking 
up the printing frame and fussing with the catch. 
“Ramble away as if you had nothing special on 
your mind, and keep the glasses out of sight 
when you come back. I’ve got a crazy notion 
that there’s someone down the shore near that 
big crooked oak who seems a lot interested in 
watching this camp.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


97 


CHAPTER X. 

THE RIFEE SHOT. 

A startled look flashed into Starbuck’s face, but 
without comment, he nodded and strolled away 
toward the cabin. Rex watched him disappear 
into the log building. Then his gaze shifted to 
where Wrenshall and Scott were diving from 
the rocks with Nipper Ware looking on shiver- 
ingly, and to where Labaude was sitting a little 
apart sulkily staring out across the lake. A mo- 
ment later, while seeming to examine the print- 
ing frame, Kingdon’s eyes traveled swiftly along 
the shore-line to the spot where a gnarled old oak 
thrust its crown of bright green out of the mass 
of darker pine branches. 

It was a good half-mile, and at first he could 
not see the dark figure which had caught his 
eye. Then he found it motionless close beside the 
tree trunk, the face, merely a blur of white in 
the distance, turned unmistakeably in the direc- 
tion of the rocky point. 

Impatiently Rex looked toward the cabin, but 


38 


REX KINGDON 


there was no trace of Kent. Why couldn’t he 
hurry a little? Kingdon frowned, unable to 
imagine what was detaining his friend. If he 
delayed much longer the mysterious person down 
the lake might slip out of sight without giving 
them a chance to get a fair look at him. 

Unfortunately for Kingdon’s peace of mind, 
it was at least five minutes before Starbuck issued 
hastily from the cabin and started on a run to- 
ward him. Apparently recollecting his friend’s 
cautioning words, however, he quickly pulled up 
and covered the remainder of the distance at a 
leisurely stroll. 

“Why didn’t you take a little more time get- 
ting them ?” Rex exclaimed with some tartness. 

“They weren’t where I looked at first,” ex- 
plained Starbuck. “I had to hunt around for 
them, and I found ” 

“Spin it later,” adjured Kingdon quickly. 
“The fellow will do a fadeaway if we don’t look 
sharp. Hand over the glasses and step around 
in front of me so I can look down the lake over 
your shoulder. That’s the way.” 

A moment later he uttered an exclamation of 
disappointment. The man had vanished behind 
a tree even as Rex got him focused with the 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


99 * 


binoculars. The boy continued to watch in hopes 
of a reappearance, but after several minutes had 
elapsed without his patience being rewarded he 
lowered the glasses. 

“He ducked, confound him!” he exclaimed. 
Then, becoming aware of an expression on 
Kent’s face which seemed to denote that he was 
fairly bursting with information to impart, he 
invited: “You’d better let it pop if it hurts that 
bad. Please open the safety valve before you 
blow up.” 

“I found it while I was looking for the 
glasses,” stated Starbuck not altogether coher- 
ently. “I remembered they’d been stuck away 
in somebody’s dunnage; you know we had ’em 
out on the train. I thought Baudie had taken 
them, so I looked in his things. The glasses 
weren’t there, but I found — the picture.” 

“Say you so?” exclaimed Kingdon sharply. 
“You mean ” 

“I sure do,” averred Starbuck. “It’s the photo- 
graph of a woman in an oval black frame. 
There’s not a doubt but it’s the same. He lied, 
you see.” 

For an instant Rex did not speak. “I wisK 
we hadn’t made him,” he said at last regretfully.. 


100 


REX KINGDON 


"We were poking our noses in, you know. Prob- 
ably he has a good reason for keeping it to him- 
self. Does she — er — look like any of his folks?” 

“None I ever saw. She’s rather pretty, and 
not so very old. I’m sure she can’t be any rela- 
tion to the aunt Baudie lives with. His mother 
and father are both dead, you know.” 

“Couldn’t this be his mother’s picture?” ques- 
tioned Kingdon. 

“It might, but where in time would he get it? 
I’ve been in Baudie’s room often enough, and 
I never saw it before. She died before Baudie 
came to Ridgewood, in fact when he wasn’t more 
than ten. He was so crazy about her that for a 
while, I remember, he was almost daffy and used 
to spend most of his time in the cemetery. Sure- 
ly, if there were a photograph in existence, a 
chap like that would have had it long ago.” 

“Perhaps he did have it,” said Rex. “Per- 
haps he kept it where no one else could see it. 
From what you say, it’s even possible that he 
might have brought it along on this trip, except 
that I can’t see what he was doing with it in 
the woods.” 

“Nor I,” acknowledged Starbuck. “And how 
could he smuggle it into the dunnage without our 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


101 


being wise? It’s queer enough either way you 
look at it, but I should say ” 

“Hi, you fellows!” yelled Wrenshall. “Stop 
your gassing and come in for a swim. It’s get- 
ting late.” 

“And Nipper’s just itching for his lesson, I 
see,” laughed Rex as he straightened up and 
glanced over at Ware. “You didn’t think for a 
minute I was going to deprive you of that pleas- 
ure, did you, old man ?” 

Nipper grinned in a sickly fashion. His fear 
of the water seemed even greater than ever, and, 
on seeing Kingdon so evidently occupied, he had 
allowed himself to hope that he might escape for 
that day, at least. Realizing that he would have 
to go through with the dreaded ordeal after all, 
he started to reply carelessly, but he was inter- 
rupted in a startling manner. 

There was a sudden queer whining sound, in 
the air, and something seemed to pass between 
Rex and Kent, striking a boulder with a vicious 
spat that was distinctly heard by all. Almost at 
the same moment came the sharp, whiplash crack 
of a rifle from somewhere to the south. 

For a brief period the stillness was broken 
only by the distant echoes of the rifle shot. Then 


102 


REX KINGDON 


each boy was suddenly galvanized to action. 
Nipper sat down abruptly behind a rock, and the 
two bathers dropped hastily into the water. Le- 
baude sprang up and moved swiftly across to 
where Starbuck, furiously angry, was searching 
the shore-line with snapping eyes. 

Rex Kingdon had bestirred himself just a 
shade more quickly than any of the others. In a 
flash the binoculars were lifted to his eyes and 
focused on the gnarled oak down the shore. 
This time he did not miss his quarry. The man 
was there, standing close beside the tree trunk, 
his rifle in his hand, his face turned, as before, 
toward the point. The instant he saw the glass 
leveled on him he disappeared, but not before 
Rex had obtained a satisfactory look at him. 

“Oh, Mr. Michaud!” exclaimed the boy tri- 
umphantly. He lowered the glass and turned 
quickly to Starbuck. “I suspected it before, and 
this time I caught him cold. The miserable Can- 
uck ! Think of him taking a pot, shot at us !” 

“How do you know eet was him who shoot?” 
interrupted Lebaude. “You have not see him 
fire.” 

“Didn’t need to,” retorted Kingdon. “The 
bullet came from that direction, didn’t it? Well, 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


103 


there aren’t so many outlaws on this lake that 
we have to pick and choose. I saw Black Mi- 
chaud through the glass as plainly as ” 

“How do you know eet was Michaud you see?” 
cut in the Canadian lad, suddenly taking another 
tack. “Never in your life have you seen him.” 

“Winkler’s description was sufficient, and this 
fellow answers to it all right.” Rex paused an 
instant and his expression grew doggedly deter- 
mined. “Anyhow,” he went on steadily, 
“whether it’s Michaud or not, we ought to get 
after him and teach him it isn’t safe to go drop- 
ping bullets into this camp. What do you say, 
fellows?” 

During the altercation with Lebaude, Wren- 
shall, Scott and Ware had appeared looking 
somewhat shamefaced. As Rex appealed to them 
there was an instant chorus of acquiescence, per- 
haps to make up in its heartiness for the first 
instinctive touch of panic that had sent them fly- 
ing to cover. 

“That’s the stuff,” exclaimed Kingdon briskly. 
“Hustle into your duds ! We haven’t any time to 
lose. I reckon we’d better start out ahead, and 
you can follow as soon as you’ve piled into some- 
thing. In my opinion he’s a big bluffer trying to 


104 


REX KINGDON 


frighten us. Naturally he won’t hang around 
down there, and it may be slow work trailing 
him. We’ll take one of the canoes and beat it 
down there in a hurry.” 

Sincere in his belief that the man was bluffing, 
Rex showed no signs of fear, and the others 
however they felt, were ashamed to hesitate. 
Kingdon took a few brisk steps toward the land- 
ing place, and then stopped abruptly, glancing 
back at the flushed, angry face of the young 
Canadian. 

“Coming, Baudie?” he asked in a pleasant, 
matter-of-fact tone in which there was no trace 
of irritation. 

Lebaude hesitated for an instant. Then his 
jaw hardened and he shook his head vehemently. 
“No,” he answered. “I have not’ing to do with 
eet. You will blame the man because he is — er — 
Canuck. Eet is no fair, an’ ” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Baudie,” cut in Rex good- 
temperedly. “You know very well we’ll do noth- 
ing of the sort. Whether he’s Canuck or Yankee, 
he’d better try his target practice somewhere 
else, believe me !” 

A moment longer he waited to see whether the 
boy’s face showed signs of relaxing. When it 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 105 

did not, he briskly walked on to the canoes, fol- 
lowed by Starbuck. Baudie’s conduct puzzled 
him not a little. His constant bristling defense 
of the outlawed Canuck seemed too earnest to 
be caused merely by the fact that they were of 
the same race. Rex could not understand the 
lad's attitude, and, as he drove the canoe around 
the rocky point and down the lake, his forehead 
wrinkled in thoughtful perplexity. 

It was not until they had almost reached the 
oak tree that a sudden startling possibility 
struck him with the tingling force of an electric 
shock. Baudie was interested in the man him- 
self, and not the fact that he was a fellow coun- 
tryman ! Impossible as it might seem, there was 
some intimate connection between the boy and 
the Canuck outlaw. Swiftly on the heels of this 
came another illuminating idea: the hut against 
the mountain cliff belonged to Michaud. It was 
his refuge — the spot from which he defied the 
representatives of the law. It was probable that 
at this very moment the fellow was making his 
way to that refuge by the shortest possible route. 


106 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XI. 

A STAGGERING DISCOVERY. 

A moment later Rex put the light craft deftly 
alongside the shore and both boys leaped out. 
Under the oak a patch of ground was trampled 
smooth by the restless movement of moccasined 
feet, and Kingdon’s eyes lit up at this confirma- 
tion of his theory. He stared eagerly around for 
a glimpse of an ejected brass shell, and even 
went down on his knees and searched through 
the brush, but to no avail. 

“No use,” he said aloud, springing to his feet. 
“That fellow’s a thoroughbred coward, Kent, and 
if you’ve got the nerve to stick with me ” 

“Try me,” invited Kent, “and see if I’m a 
good sticker.” 

To Starbuck’s surprise, instead of making the 
canoe fast and continuing the pursuit through 
the woods, Rex stepped back into the bobbing 
craft and picked up his paddle. From long ex- 
perience with his chum, Kent had learned to ask 
no questions. He took his place and, headed 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


107 


south again, did his part in making the canoe 
skim through the water, even though his mind 
was fairly bursting with curious speculations as 
to their destination. 

It was some time before these were satisfied. 
Kingdon did not deliberately keep his friend in 
the dark, but being busy working out his plans 
and keeping an eye open for the spot on the shore 
where Baudie had landed the day before, he quite 
forgot that the other boy might have an interest 
in their movements. It was not until they had 
disembarked for the second time at a spot where 
a canoe had unmistakably landed within a short 
time that he remembered to tell Starbuck about 
his discovery of the hut and his belief that Mi- 
chaud was now on his way there. 

Thrilled with excitement, Kent asked a dozen 
questions and made almost as many suggestions. 
One idea — the possibility that Lebaude had stay- 
ed behind for the purpose of somehow warning 
the outlaw — had been floating about in Kingdon’s 
brain for some minutes. 

“I dare say he’d be quite willing to put him 
wise,” he conceded; “but I don’t just see how 
he’s going to. He couldn’t possibly get to the 
hut ahead of us.” 


108 


REX KINGDON 


“They might have arranged to meet some other 
place.” 

“This business wasn’t prearranged. I don’t 
believe Baudie’s seen the fellow since we came, 
except, of course, for those few minutes in the 
canoe when neither of them knew each other. 
It’s almost a sure thing he didn’t get into the hut 
yesterday. Wait till you see the place.” 

It was plainly Kingdon’s purpose to make sure 
without delay that the cabin in the woods was 
the hidden retreat of the dangerous wretch, an 
action that might lead them into no little peril; 
for if Black Michaud had fired on them once 
with murderous intent, he would scarcely hesitate 
to do so again. Of course, unarmed as they 
were, save with automatic pistols, even Rex, 
though notoriously reckless and headstrong at 
times, could hardly count on the possibility of 
capturing the outlaw immediately and turning 
him over to justice. 

Once, as they hurried through the woods, hav- 
ing reached the path that followed the course 
of the laughing brook, Kent started to inquire 
what his companion’s plans were ; but remember- 
ing that, whatever he did, Kingdon usually came 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 109 

out of an adventure with flying colors, Starbuck 
decided to trust him and remain silent. 

And so they came at last to the edge of the 
desolate open space at the base of the mountain 
cliff where they crouched in concealment, gazing 
with searching eyes at the small hut squatting 
against the precipitous rocks. It appeared quite 
as lonely and deserted as it had the first time 
Kingdon’s eyes discovered it. 

“Nobody home, Rex,” whispered Kent ner- 
vously, feeling himself slightly aquiver in spite 
of his efforts to remain cool and calm. “There’s 
a padlock on the door, so there can’t be any- 
body inside. What’ll we do now ?” 

“I’d like to give the inside of that shack the 
once over,” stated the other boy. “If we could 
take a look at it, we should be able to decide if 
it really is Michaud’s rat hole. Then we could 
inform the authorities where to look for him.” 

“Dangerous business, old man. He might 
come and find us prying. In that case it would 
be g-o-o-d night. Likely he’d fix us so that, later, 
we’d ride at the head of long and silent proces- 
sions.” 

But Kingdon’s hot blood was leaping, and he 
entertained no idea of turning back without sat- 


110 


REX KINGDON 


isfying his curiosity regarding the cabin. A 
more cautious lad might have been content to do 
so, not he. 

“I’m going to lamp the inside of that place,” 
he announced. “If you’re shaky, you can stay 
here and keep watch. Let me know if you see 
or hear anything that makes it advisable for me 
to take a high dive for cover.” 

“Not I,” said Starbuck stiffly. “When you 
saunter forth you’ll find me Johnny at your el- 
bow, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open just the 
same.” 

“Then we’ll saunter. Come on.” 

Boys, like fools, sometimes rush in where 
angels fear to tread. In this case two of them 
did something that most men, knowing Michaud’s 
reputation, would have hesitated over. Rising 
from concealment, they walked swiftly forward 
to the cabin. 

To Rex it looked as if not a pine needle had 
been ruffled since his hasty departure yesterday 
afternoon. The door was as impenetrably closed, 
the window as blank and shuttered. Even the 
little heap of brown needles, drifted over the low 
sill, lay undisturbed. Neither of the boys 
could believe that anyone had crossed that thres- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 111 

hold in days, to say nothing of hours, and Rex 
began seriously to wonder whether he might not 
have been mistaken in thinking this was Mi- 
chaud’s refuge. 

Suddenly Kingdon did something that made 
Starbuck jump and gasp; lifting his hand, he 
beat a resounding tattoo upon the door. Breath- 
less, both lads listened. 

When the echoes died away the succeeding 
stillness seemed more tense than before. Stand- 
ing close by the rough planks, Rex had an odd 
impression that he could fairly feel someone 
moving softly behind them. It was a foolish 
fancy, he told himself, yet so real was it that he 
found one hand stealing toward the butt of his 
automatic. Far above the treetops a wheeling 
hawk called harshly, mockingly. There was no 
other sound. Kingdon turned suddenly on Star- 
buck. 

“Lend me your knife, Kent,” he requested. 
“I’m going in here if it takes a leg.” 

Starbuck, watchful and alert lest they should 
be surprised by Michaud, passed the knife over. 
Rex took it quickly, thrust the stout blade to the 
hilt under the padlock staple and pulled outward 
with a strong, steady pressure. 


112 


REX KINGDON 


Slowly at first the staple gave, but the wood 
around it was more or less rotten, and presently 
it yielded suddenly. A kick from Rex burst the 
door open, and both boys crossed the threshold 
to glance swiftly around them with curiosity and, 
last of all, disappointment. 

The place was empty, yet again Kingdon was 
conscious of a queer, uncanny sense of another 
person’s presence. Staring around at the rude 
furnishings, he could have sworn that some one 
had recently been in the room. The notion was 
absurd, of course, and he began to grow a little 
vexed with himself. With the window still shut- 
tered and the simple furniture presenting abso- 
lutely no hiding place, the fancy could be no more 
than a whimsey of his over-active brain. 

There was a scrap of paper on the floor beside 
a roughly made table, and Rex bent and picked 
it up. Idly he glanced at it, and then caught his 
breath with a sharp gasp. It was the front of an 
envelope addressed to Louis Lebaude. Turning 
it swiftly, he gathered in a moment the meaning 
of the brief penciled note in French scrawled on 
the other side: 

I have taken Mother’s picture, which you 
promised to send me yet never did. Why 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


113 


have you failed to write in all this time? 
And why do you avoid me now? I shall 
make another effort to see you to-morrow. 
Please do not put any difficulties in my way. 

Your affectionate, 

LOUIS. 

Kingdon’s eyes widened with amazement, then 
he glanced back at the heading which, in his 
haste, he had passed over. “My dear Father,” 
it ran. Rex could not believe the evidence of 
his senses. “Father!” he muttered under his 
breath. “Now fan me vigorously! Why, his 
father’s dead!” 

He glared at the paper, almost expecting to 
see the impossible words alter before his eyes, but 
it stared back at him with bewildering assurance. 
“My dear Father!” Commonplace under or- 
dinary conditions, in this instance the phrase was 
bizarre, fantastic, incredible. Yet as he stared 
critically at the writing he realized that, in addi- 
tion to the evidence of the envelope, Baudie’s 
familiar scrawl was unmistakable. 


114 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE NAME IN THE BOOK. 

“Come out of your trance!” suddenly ejacu- 
lated Starbuck in the tone of one decidedly an- 
noyed. “What’s the matter with you, anyhow?” 

Kingdon gave himself a slight shake. For a 
moment he had really forgotten his chum’s pres- 
ence. Without a word he handed over the scrap 
of paper which Kent snatched unceremoniously. 

“French!” the latter exclaimed disgustedly the 
next instant. “I’m no good at that lingo. ‘Mon 
cher pere’ means my dear father, but that’s as 
far as I can get without a dictionary. Whose 
dear father is it ? And what’s it got to do with 
Michaud?” 

An odd expression flashed into Kingdon’s eyes 
as he took the paper slowly from Starbuck’s out- 
stretched fingers. After all, what had it to do 
with Michaud? How did he know it was ad- 
dressed to the outlaw Canuck? He had merely 
taken that for granted because of his belief that 
the hut belonged to the woodsman. All he could 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 115 

be really certain of was that Baudie had left it 
here yesterday when he carried away the mys- 
terious picture. There might be another man in 
the woods whom they had not yet seen or heard 
of. 

Kingdon’s head began to swim under the bur- 
den of this complexity. Fortunately, however, 
the strangest mystery of all was unobscured by 
doubts and possibilities ; that Baudie should write 
to a father who had supposedly been dead for 
years was a sufficiently interesting fact, and Rex 
made haste to enlighten his companion. 

At first Kent was incredulous. Almost imme- 
diately, however, he recalled the fact that the 
demise of the elder Lebaude had been established 
entirely by hearsay. The Canadian lad’s mother 
had been brought to Ridgewood for burial, but 
of his father nothing was known save what the 
sister living in the little coast village had chosen 
to give out — and that, as Starbuck now remem- 
bered, had been little more than a simple state- 
ment of his death. 

“Of course everybody believed it,” Starbuck 
concluded. “Now I recollect having seen Baudie 
one evening talking to a strange man at his 
mother’s grave. I didn’t think much of it at the 


116 


REX KINGDON 


time. It was only a few months after Baudie 
first came to his aunt’s. But I knew I’d never 
seen the man before, and never got a glimpse of 
him afterward.” 

“Did he have a black beard?” 

“No, though he might have had a mustache. 
You don’t think that Michaud is Baudie’s father? 
How could he be? He’s nothing but a rough 
Canuck woodsman — an outlaw at that; and you 
know what a well-mannered, refined chap Louis 
is.” 

“It doesn’t seem right, I’ll admit; but you never 
can tell. Suppose we take a look around and see 
if we can find anything to indicate who owns 
the shack.” 

Apparently both had forgotten the danger of 
Michaud suddenly putting in an appearance and 
bringing them to account for breaking into the 
cabin. The discovery of the mysterious missive 
had whetted their curiosity to a keen edge and 
dulled their sense of precaution at the same time. 

Neither of them had examined the interior of 
the hut in detail, but now they lost no time in 
sizing up the furnishings, the most of which were 
of the rudest description. In a corner opposite 
the fireplace were two rough bunks, the upper 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 117 

one showing signs of having been added after 
the first was built. There were also two chairs, 
a stool, the table, some shelves and pegs, and a 
small chest under the window. That was all, ex- 
cept several skins, some spread on the floor, some 
hanging against the walls. Almost the entire 
back wall of the hut was covered with two huge 
bearskins that had already excited Kingdon’s ad- 
miration. But he quickly withdrew his rather 
envious glance, and turned his attention to the 
chest which seemed to be the only article in the 
room that promised possibilities. 

It contained an assortment of fishing tackle, a 
soiled box of writing paper, and several books. 
Rex picked up one of the latter, glancing at the 
title. It was an odd volume of La Rochefou- 
cauld’s Maxims. With a murmur of astonish- 
ment at the incongruity of a woodsman’s choice, 
the boy flicked back the cover and found written 
on the fly-leaf in a clear running hand, “Jean 
'Michaud Lebaude, Beaupre, Quebec.” 

“Once more,” said Rex in a husky voice, “I 
would like to be fanned !” 

Starbuck, staring over his shoulder, read the 
inscription and made a gurgling sound in his 
throat. 


•118 


REX KINGDON 


“I’m about to pass away myself!” he splut- 
tered. “What do you reckon it means ? Do you 
s’pose he could have committed a crime and been 
forced to hide in the woods like Scotty’s cousin ?” 

“You have asked me a whole earfull,” said 
Rex, replacing the book in the chest and closing 
the lid. “Something out of the way must have 
happened to send him off here to live in this wil- 
derness after being accustomed to a different 
life.” 

Starbuck drew a long breath. “I’m spinning 
like a top,” he declared. “Think of Baudie’s 
father being alive — and this sort of a man!” 

Kingdon had stepped over to where the big 
skins hung against the rear wall, and was ad- 
miring the larger one. 

“I’d like to own this dandy,” he muttered. 

“Don’t you think we’d better be rambling 
away into the wildwoods, old man?” asked Star- 
buck, peering forth from the open door. “The 
proprietor of this residence might take a notion 
to come home, you know.” 

“If he’s Baudie’s dad I’m not afraid of him,” 
declared Kingdon. “I’m sure he didn’t shoot at 
us intentionally, if he really knew Baudie was 
one of our bunch.” He stretched out his hand 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


119 


and absently stroked the thick hair of the splen- 
did hide. “Poacher, outlaw, or whatever he is, 
being Baudie’s father fixes it so that we’ll have 


His voice trailed away in an absent-minded 
manner, as if he was not quite certain of what 
they ought to do, or else had become more inter- 
ested in something else. Starbuck, still gazing 
forth from the door with apprehension that was 
not wholly relieved, presently became impatient 
for his friend to go on. 

“Well,” he questioned, “what are we going to 
do about it?” 

There was no answer. 

Kent turned, wondering, and his jaw dropped, 
an expression of bewilderment that was akin to 
fear overspreading his face. Save for himself 
the cabin was empty, Kingdon having vanished 
like an egg from a conjurer’s hand. 


120 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XIII. 
the secret passage. 

Starbuck was so overcome with amazement 
that he was incapable of motion. His eyes took 
in the interior of the sparsely furnished hut in 
a single sweeping glance. Had Rex been in a 
mood for practical joking, there was nothing to 
afford him concealment in that small box-like 
room. Three of the walls were of solid logs, and 
two of them abutted against the solid rock. The 
huge bearskin, hanging against the latter wall, 
did not quite touch the floor, and Kent could 
clearly see a strip of dark stone below it. 

“Eternal marvels!” he gasped in a tone of 
utter bewilderment. “I wonder whether he went 
through the floor or up the chimney?” 

“Neither, you simp,” chuckled Kingdon’s voice 
with an unexpectedness which made Starbuck 
jump. “I went through the wall.” 

To Kent’s further astonishment, the bearskin 
suddenly billowed out, and his chum’s smiling 
face peered from behind it. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


121 


“Neatest little arrangement you ever saw,” 
Rex commented. “Come look at it. I never 
would have suspected the thing if I hadn’t pushed 
against the skin. Look here.” 

He raised the heavy hide, which was cleverly 
weighted by an iron bar to make it hang straight, 
and revealed to Starbuck an irregular cavity or 
passage leading, apparently, straight into the 
heart of the mountain. The bottom of this en- 
trance was six or eight inches above the cabin 
floor, which accounted for the deceptive appear- 
ance of solid rock. 

“Find a candle, old man,” requested Kingdon. 
“We ought to take a look at this. I’ve a notion 
it’s the way a person can go and come and still 
have the front door looking as if nobody had 
opened it in a hundred years.” 

Another fancy had come to him, which he kept 
to himself. Vividly he recalled that queer sense 
of someone’s presence of which he had been so 
keenly conscious when they entered the cabin, 
and now he was almost positive that some person 
had been there at the time. Perhaps Michaud had 
managed to reach the refuge before them; per- 
haps when they entered he had slipped away 


122 


REX KINGDON 


through the mysterious passage — if, indeed, he 
had slipped away at all. 

For the first time, in spite of his natural im- 
petuous rashness, Rex hesitated. Face to face 
with Michaud under ordinary conditions, he 
might be able to announce his peaceful intentions 
and declare himself Baudie’s friend; but to en- 
counter the hunted man in the darkness of that 
underground tunnel would be quite a different 
matter. Not one boy in a thousand, perhaps, 
would have ventured to penetrate the secret pas- 
sage ; possibly not more than one in ten thousand. 
But Kingdon was the exceptional one. 

It was not exactly false pride that spurred him 
either, although he saw Starbuck, who had 
brought a lighted candle, looking at him with a 
queer questioning expression. He realized that 
they had perpetrated a piece of thoughtless folly 
in attempting to pursue the outlaw under such 
conditions, but the amazing discoveries they had 
made had fired his blood and filled him with a 
great eagerness to solve all the secrets of that 
remarkable refuge in the forest. The adventure 
was such a one as he had sometimes read about 
with feverish eagerness, and frequently dreamed 
of participating in. It seemed that to quit now" 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


123 


would be like getting “cold feet” after setting out 
boastfully upon a great enterprise. 

And so, instructing Kent to keep close behind 
him and hold the candle high that the light might 
shine over his shoulder, he nerved himself to ad- 
vance into the passage. Both lads moved for- 
ward with their hearts thumping loudly within 
them. 

The tunnel went straight back into the rock for 
about twenty feet, and then turned abruptly to 
the left. It wasn’t really a tunnel, but rather a 
cleft in the mountain formed by a section of 
the rock separating it from the principal mass. 
For a dozen yards or more it was probably cov- 
ered by other rocks and debris clogging the nar- 
row opening and gradually filling in above it. 
Then a thin streak of light appeared above, grow- 
ing gradually wider, and they found themselves 
beginning to climb. It was a smooth, easy grade. 
Doubtless the man who lived in the cabin was 
to be thanked for that. When they finally 
emerged from the crevice they found themselves 
on a narrow shelf of rock, thirty feet or more 
above the forest level, at a point from which not 
•even the cabin chimney could be seen. 

“Well, that’s a slick little back entrance,” said 


124 


REX KINGDON 


Starbuck, taking a long breath of relief. “It’s 
the kind that ought to be mighty useful to a chap 
like Michaud. Wonder how you get down from 
here ?” 

“Use your eyes,” advised Kingdon. “This 
dead tree is as nice a ladder as anybody’d want.” 

Whether or not the pine in question had fallen 
against the ledge of its own accord or been clev- 
erly placed there by the occupant of the cabin, it 
could, as Rex stated, serve nicely as a ladder. 
The boys did not descend by it, but, after a brief 
look around, returned to the hut. 

“I reckon it’s up to us to fade gently away,” 
remarked Rex as the bearskin dropped in place 
behind them. “Don’t believe we’ll find out any- 
thing more that’s worth knowing. Let’s fix up 
the staple and beat it.” 

Before this job was satisfactorily finished 
both lads were aware that they possessed nerves. 
In the interest of examining the cabin and the 
excitement of their discovery, they had lost track 
of time. It seemed to them that they had been 
there for hours, and they worked feverishly with 
the door, fearful that Michaud might appear at 
any moment and catch them. When it was fin- 
ished, Rex dusted a double handful of pine 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


125 


needles lightly across the threshold and turned 
quickly away. 

In silence they hastily crossed the glade and 
were about to circle the jutting mass of rock 
around which curved the path, when the snapping 
of a twig on the other side brought them up 
sharp. For an instant they stood petrified. 
Then, like a flash, Kingdon gripped his chum’s 
arm and dragged him down beside the boulder. 

It wasn’t much of a hiding place, and Baudie 
would have seen them had he not been occupied 
entirely in another direction. They crouched 
there, scarcely daring to breathe, and watched 
the Canadian boy hurry on and glance momen- 
tarily at the locked door of the hut. He swiftly 
crossed the glade and disappeared around a 
shoulder of the mountain beyond the spring. The 
moment he was out of sight the two boys 
whisked past the boulder and took the back trail 
at a run. 

“Not a bit close!” said Kingdon softly. “He’s 
going in by way of the tunnel. I hope we didn’t 
leave any traces behind us. Somehow, I’d hate 
him to find out that we knew.” 

“I don’t see why he should,” returned Star- 
buck confidently. “We’ll be back in camp before 


126 


REX KINGDON 


he can get there. If we have to explain to him 
when he turns up, we’ll do the best we can at 
it.” 

They were not put to the necessity of making 
explanations. Before they saw Lebaude again 
something quite unexpected had happened to 
divert the attention of everyone from the out- 
law woodsman. 

Wasting little breath in conversation, the two 
chums hurried through the woods toward the 
spot where they had left the canoe. They were 
nearly there when they came upon Wrenshall, 
Scott and Ware, all of whom showed keen eager- 
ness, if not actual excitement. Rex naturally 
imagined this was because of their interest in 
the reckless pursuit, and he was surprised at the 
ease with which he was able to satisfy their 
curiosity. He had been prepared for a great 
deal of quizzing, but the trio did not even ask 
why he had made that sudden shift down the 
lake from the spot where Michaud had been 
standing. 

“You took some chances, that was what wor- 
ried us,” commented Wrenshall almost indiffer- 
ently. “So we tried to follow you.” With much 
more briskness he continued: “You ought to 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


127 


have stayed at the lake and piped what we did. 
Honest Injun, you couldn’t guess what it was in 
a week.” 

“Then don’t keep us in suspenders,” entreate'd 
Kingdon. “Let it come if you’ve really discov- 
ered something worth while.” 

“I don’t know what you call worth while,” 
Wrenshall retorted tartly. “Seems to me a couple 
of strange canoes chasing the shore down by the 
narrows ought to be ” 

“Let me get you, my dear fellow,” interrupted 
Rex. “I’ve never yet seen a canoe chase the 
shore. Did they have much trouble catching it, 
or did it get away ?” 

Nipper snickered, and Wrenshall, who was of 
a somewhat serious turn of mind, frowned 
slightly. “I should have said they were chasing 
along the shore,” he corrected with dignity. “As 
a matter of fact, one of them was chasing the 
other.” 

“Somebody’s got ’em well trained,” chuckled 
Kingdon, determined to keep the diversion up. 
"“What a stunt it would be if we could capture 
those trick canoes and take them back to civiliza- 
tion! There’d be oodles of gold it in, believe 
me! Which way were they heading, Dickie?” 


128 


REX KINGDON 


“Toward the narrows, I told you,” rejoined 
Wrenshall snappishly. “They came out of a lit- 
tle cove over on the east shore and turned south. 
There were two paddlers in each canoe, and they 
went through the narrows into the river.” 

Kingdon turned to Starbuck with an expres- 
sion of sorrowful regret. “I’d like to know how 
you account for this, Buck,” he said in a pained 
tone. “My doctor orders me off to be quiet, 
and on the strength of your assertion that there 
isn’t a human being to be seen on this part of 
the lake once a month, I come here. Since our 
arrival there’ve been hordes of strange people 
around, and I don’t like it at all. It’s too much 
like my trip to Virginia last winter for a change 
and rest — the railroads took my change and the 
hotels got the rest.” 

“How brilliant !” cried Scott, clapping his hand 
over his eyes. “And I didn’t bring my smoked 
glasses.” 

“It isn’t your eyes, old man,” said Rex suavely. 
“Your trouble lies a trifle higher up.” 

“It’s probably that same bunch from Tobique,” 
was Starbuck’s idea. “Maybe they’ve turned out 
a whole gang to run the Canucker down.” 

“Then we’re likely to have the pleasure of see- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 129 

ing Winkler and the amiable Jed,” drawled Rex. 
He hesitated, frowning slightly. “They went 
south into the river?” he questioned, glancing 
at Wrenshall. 

“Yep.” 

“And didn’t show up again?” 

“Not that we could see. We watched fifteen 
or twenty minutes before we started to find you.” 

“Wish you’d stayed and kept on watching,” 
said Rex; “but don’t misconstrue me as criticiz- 
ing. Your motives in following us were un- 
doubtedly estimable — and that’s a good word 
when one can think to use it. What do you say, 
Buck, if we slip across the lake and Sherlock 
Holmes around a bit?” 

“I’m yours truly, Doctor Watson,” agreed 
Starbuck. “Only don’t forget that we haven’t 
had any dinner yet.” 

“Forget it !” cried Rex, as they came out upon 
the lake shore. “I am vividly reminded of the 
fact by a yearning vacuum in the department of 
the interior. After we chase back to camp and 
get a bite, we’ll shoot across the lake and see 
who’s trespassing on our happy hunting 
grounds.” 


130 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XIV. 
the; othe;r party. 

Wren shall was disposed to attach a great deal 
of importance to the appearance of the strange 
canoes, persisting in talking about them while 
the boys, having reached camp, were snatching a 
hasty bite. 

“Oh, forget it for a minute,” implored Rex. 
“Let that cold ham and hardtack stop your 
mouth. What’s the good of doing so much guess- 
ing, old man?” 

“Did you say guessing or gassing?” inquired 
Starbuck, grinning behind Dick’s back. 

“The words are synonymous in this case, and 
if you don’t know what synonymous means I’ll 
never be able to tell you.” 

“Didn’t somebody tell us something about 
some lumbermen being around here?” persisted 
Wrenshall, refusing to be silenced. 

“Do lumbermen chase the shore in canoes?” 
asked Nipper Ware, making a puerile attempt to 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


131 


be funny. “They’re big and husky, as a rule, 

and they ought to catch it if ” 

“You’ll catch it if you don’t shut up!” flared 
Wrenshall, turning on the little chap, who 
promptly edged away toward the open back door. 
“My!” muttered Scott. “How touchy he is!” 
“You’re to blame for the frivolous ways these 
fellows are getting into, Kingdon,” charged 
Dick. “Can’t any of them seem to be serious? 
They all try to ape you.” 

“If they ape me they’ll probably make monkeys 
of themselves. Now, please don’t everybody 
throw something at me! Such a pun deserves 
punishment, I know.” 

Wrenshall gave him a reproving look. “Some- 
times,” he said, “you amuse me, but this is not 
one of the occasions. It’s a serious matter being 
fired at the way we were, and now if we’re go- 
ing to be pestered by a lot of strangers who have 

no business being around here ” 

“You’re talking nonsense yourself, Wren,” 
declared Starbuck, rising from the table. “We 
don’t own this lake, and other people have as 
much right around here as we have as long as 
they let us alone. Of course this Michaud busi- 


132 


REX KINGDON 


ness is different — er — that is, we — we thought 
so.” 

Having caught a warning glance from King- 
don, he floundered and stammered, aware that he 
had indiscreetly brought up a matter that might 
lead the others, under present conditions, to 
question them more closely about their late ad- 
venture in the woods. In order to repair the 
error, he began urging everybody to hurry up if 
they really meant to start out upon the investigat- 
ing tour before it was too late to do so that day. 

The boys were coming out of the cabin when 
Lebaude appeared. The Canadian youth gave 
Rex and Kent a searching look, but volunteered 
no explanation concerning where he had been. 
When he learned of their purpose, he was more 
than ready to join the expedition. 

“You’d better duck inside and grab some- 
thing to eat, Baudie,” suggested Starbuck. 
“We’ve had a hasty snatch.” 

“Eet ees not hongry I be,” was the reply. “I 
do not care for the eating.” 

Which was a bit singular considering the fact 
that Lebaude usually had a voracious appetite 
and a way of cleaning up the remnants when- 
ever he missed a meal. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


133 


The party soon put off in the two canoes, Nip- 
per Ware reluctantly taking his place with King- 
don and Starbuck. Until they were far out on 
the lake he continued to cast longing glances 
back toward the point on which the old camp 
stood. 

“Come now, Nip,” begged Kingdon suddenly, 
“cheer up and wipe that worried look off your 
map. You’re not going to a watery grave for 
at least an hour and a quarter.” 

Crouching in the middle of the canoe, Ware 
gave a slight start and flushed deeply. He had 
not been conscious of how plainly his face be- 
trayed the nervousness gripping him, and the 
discovery that Rex could read him like a printed 
page was embarrassing. 

“I — I was thinking,” he stammered, “of ” 

“That’s an awful bad habit when you’re not 
used to it,” laughed the boy in the stern. He 
paused and bent forward a bit, his face sud- 
denly serious. “You don’t mean to say that it’s 
in your mind all the time?” he asked in a low 
tone. “Don’t you ever forget it?” 

Nipper’s lids drooped and he plucked nervously 
at a jagged tear in his khaki trousers. “Well — 


134 


REX KINGDON 


hardly ever,” he confessed. “I try, but it doesn’t 
seem to be much use.” 

“When you’ve caught the knack of swimming 
you’ll realize how foolish you were to worry. 
It’s almost as simple as walking, and one never 
forgets after he has learned. I’m going to give 
you another lesson as soon as we get back. Say, 
isn’t that the cove just ahead there?” 

Without moving his body, Ware cautiously 
turned his head and surveyed the shore. “I think 
so,” he answered. “It looks like the place they 
shot out of. Dick saw them first. He’d know 
for sure.” 

Kingdon glanced back at the other canoe, 
wondering whether it was worth while waiting 
for them to come up. Deciding that it wasn’t, 
he resumed paddling. 

The character of the indentation in the shore- 
line which they were approaching was hidden by 
a thickly wooded point that protruded — though 
not nearly so boldly as their own camping ground 
— into the lake. It might be either a mere cove 
or the mouth of a creek or small river, and 
curiosity made Kingdon and Starbuck uncon- 
sciously speed up as they approached the end of 
the point. They were within a dozen yards of 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


135 


the low sandy spit that extended a little from the 
thick screen of pines, scrub oak and underbrush 
when their ears were greeted with a cry in the 
nature of a warlike challenge. 

“Come on, you dubs!” invited a harsh voice 
from somewhere close at hand. “If you want to 
get your blocks knocked off, sail right in. I’m 
waiting.” 

For a moment the boys thought the words were 
addressed to them and that the unknown was 
concealed somewhere in the thicket. But they 
quickly realized that the defiance came from the 
other side of the point. Another voice, either not 
raised so loud or from a greater distance, called 
back a retort that brought a sparkle into King- 
don’s eyes. 

“It’s a scrap, Kent,” he said in a low tone. 
“Hustle up, and we’ll get front seats.” 

Rex thrust his paddle deep, and the canoe 
leaped forward, causing Nipper Ware to grasp 
nervously at the sides. Round the end of the 
point it swept, but the only reason that it did not 
stop was because of the acquired momentum. 
Both paddlers ceased their efforts with surpris- 
ing suddenness and stared, wide-eyed and open- 
mouthed, at the scene before them. 


136 


REX KINGDON 


As Rex had more than half expected, they had 
entered the outlet of a good-sized stream that 
widened as it emptied into the lake until the dis- 
tance between banks must have measured over 
a hundred feet. On the left, amid the dark green 
of pine foliage, gleamed the white expanse of 
three tents. A newly built landing place of logs 
and rough saplings ran out a little way into the 
river. Several figures in swimming trunks sat 
on the end of it, dangling their feet in the water 
and watching the maneuver of two canoes in 
midstream. 

It took a good deal to surprise Rex Kingdon, 
or rather, to force him to show it; but this 
was one of the rare occasions when he gave evi- 
dence of being utterly taken aback. Also Star- 
buck and Ware, their mouths agape, surveyed the 
scene almost with incredulity. 

No wonder. Before rounding the point the 
last thing any of them had dreamed of beholding 
was the sight of such familiar faces. They had 
been prepared for Winkler, or the ill-tempered 
Jed, or even a crowd of bearded, raucous lumber- 
men; but to come suddenly upon a number of 
Ridgewood lads whom they had left at home less 
than a week before, with no idea of seeing any of 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


137 


them again until they should return, was as- 
tounding. 

Kingdon was the first to recover. His eyes 
swept over the group on the rickety little dock, 
recognizing Roddy Thorpe, Shrimp Ballard, 
Dudley Durand and fat Chub Taffinder, the last 
mentioned looking like a pink porpoise squeezed 
strainingly into scant bathing trunks and pre- 
senting a vivid contrast to Durand, who was 
slim, elegant and supercilious in his swagger 
swimming suit of woven silk. These were the 
passive figures in the scene. As usual, it was 
the active ones which interested Rex most, and 
he found them in the two canoes. 

In the stern of one crouched Dell Vickers clad 
in bathing trunks and wielding a paddle skil- 
fully. Once Vickers had attempted to connect 
Kingdon with a band of smugglers, thus bringing 
about strained relations between the two boys. 
Bruce Brigham, .Vickers’ particular chum, and 
likewise Rex’s enemy, balanced himself in the 
bow of the same canoe, holding a long pole to 
the end of which a huge sponge was fastened. 
In the other canoe Tug Melchor was the paddler, 
while the “spear” was held by a big, sandy- 
haired chap of fine physique, whom Kingdon had 


138 


REX KINGDON 


never seen, but whose voice, bellowing the chal- 
lenge, had been heard through the screen of trees. 

Rex had scarcely taken in these details — 
scarcely begun, even, to wonder who the stranger 
was — when a sudden shout went up from the 
group on the dock. It caused Brigham to turn 
his head swiftly, and his lips curled in a snarl 
as he beheld the new arrivals. Vickers’ expres- 
sion was even more disagreeable. But it was 
really the strange lad who started the next move. 
As he caught sight of the newcomers his eyes 
sparkled and his big mouth curved in a sudden 
delighted grin. 

“Avast heavin’!” he bellowed, taking a fresh 
grip on his curious weapon. “For’ard, men, to 
repel boarders!” 

Melchor seemed to catch his idea instantly, and 
he promptly turned the canoe and drove it to- 
ward the rival campers. Vickers, though a trifle 
slower of comprehension, was not very far be- 
hind. Almost before Rex and his friends could 
recover from their first astonishment they real- 
ized that unless they stirred themselves they 
would soon become targets for the deftly bal- 
anced sticks poised by the two lads who were 
rushing toward them. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


139 


At once Rex increased his speed without swerv- 
ing aside. His eyes narrowed a bit as they 
studied the approaching canoemen. A fleeting 
glance, so cursory as to be almost negligible, 
showed him that Nipper had turned pale with 
fright and was gripping the sides of the canoe 
convulsively. 

“Don’t worry, Nip,” he said in a low tone. 
“If we go over I’ll look after 'you. Keep her 
going, Kent, but don’t try to steer. Leave that 
to me.” 

Starbuck obeyed and they skimmed over the 
water, heading straight for the first craft as if 
they meant to cut it down. But Melchor and 
the auburn-haired unknown were game. They 
did not give way an inch, and Kingdon was 
obliged to swerve so sharply to the left that his 
canoe was almost overturned. As they swung 
away the stranger lunged with his soft tipped 
lance, but so abrupt was their maneuver that the 
sponge barely touched Kingdon’s black jersey. 

“Good work !” the spearsman cried generously. 
“That was some dodge. Around again, Tug. 
We’ll have ’em in a jiffy.” 

At once Kinedon warmed toward the fellow, 
and at any other moment he would have sent 


140 


REX KINGDON 


back a laughing response. Just now he had 
scarcely time to breathe. The second craft was 
barely twenty feet behind, coming at top speed. 
In the bow, his spear poised for a vicious stroke, 
his expression one of gloating certainty, Brig- 
ham half-crouched, half-stood. 

With a wide sweep of his paddle, Rex again 
sent the canoe straight at the enemy. Brig- 
ham prepared to strike. His figure stiffened and 
his hand, holding the stout pole in a tight grip, 
drew back a little for the effort. In another sec- 
ond, it seemed, the sponge-tipped weapon would 
have been launched straight at Starbuck’s chest 
had not Rex suddenly shifted the course and shot 
across the bow of the other canoe. 

“Grab his stick, Kent!” Kingdon suddenly 
cried. “Yank it away from him !” 

Dropping his paddle, Starbuck caught the end 
of Brigham’s spear. Had the latter’s brain been 
working properly, he would have promptly real- 
ized the futility of resistance. But Bruce was 
a trifle bewildered by the abruptness of King- 
don’s maneuver and furious at its success. 

He foolishly resisted, striving to keep his hold 
on the stick in order to prevent Starbuck from ob- 
taining possession of it. The result was divert- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


141 


ing for the recent arrivals. Suddenly losing his 
balance, Bruce toppled from the craft and, with 
a loud splash, vanished beneath the water. 

Instantly the canoe, relieved of one hundred 
and seventy odd pounds of bone and muscle, 
dropped at the stern. Vickers tried to save 
himself, but the canoe tipped and filled, dump- 
ing him out to keep his friend company. 


REX KINGDON 


142 


CHAPTER XV. 

A DUEL ON THE WATER. 

Kingdon burst into a hearty laugh, but his 
amusement did not keep him inactive, even for a 
moment. The second canoe was coming at them, 
the auburn-haired giant balancing his pole deftly 
and shouting to Melchor to get up more steam. 
Rex’s first impulse was to turn and meet them, 
but having glanced at Nipper’s panic-stricken 
face, he headed for shore. 

“Hi, there!” yelled the spearman in a disap- 
pointed voice. “Come back, you quitters.” 

Paying no attention to the taunt, Rex sent 
the canoe dancing over the water to a bit of 
shelving beach at the left of the dock. 

“Hop out, Nip,” he directed as the craft 
grounded. “Get rid of your pants and shoes, 
Kent,” he went on rapidly, stepping quickly 
ashore. 

Besides their swimming trunks, both boys wore 
jerseys, khaki trousers and sneakers. Having 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


143 


shed the last two incumbrances in a hurry, they 
were ready for the fray. 

“We’d make out better if you took this pole 
and let me paddle,” was Starbuck’s idea as they 
started to get back into the canoe. “I’m not 
much good at keeping my balance.” 

“And the man who invented the paddle had 
nothing on you,” declared Rex. “All right. 
Let’s shift, and we’ll try to hand this roaring 
wild man a nice damp bath.” 

He picked up the spear as Kent took the 
paddle, and they lost no time in thrusting the 
canoe out toward midstream where their enemies 
were awaiting them. Brigham and Vickers were 
swimming slowly to shore with their overturned 
canoe, but neither Rex nor his chum wasted a 
glance on them. Their attention was entirely 
taken up with the interesting new game and the 
possibilities of out-maneuvering the big, red- 
haired stranger who balanced himself so easily 
in Tug Melchor’s canoe. Rex liked his looks 
more and more, but he also realized that the 
fellow probably would prove a dangerous oppo- 
nent. Evidently Starbuck was similarly affected, 
for his approach became so cautious that the un- 
known presently showed signs of impatience. 


144 


REX KINGDON 


“Oh, come on and have at us !” he called good- 
naturedly. “We’re going to eat you up anyhow, 
so you may as well come right out into deep 
water and get it over with. Delay only adds to 
our appetites.” 

“Aren’t you sort of careless?” returned Rex. 
“You’re liable to get a bad attack of indigestion, 
old sport.” 

“Not over anything soft, like you,” laughed the 
other confidently. “Out at last! Go to it, Tug!” 

Melchor obeyed, plying his paddle with force 
which brought out the rippling muscles of his 
arms and shoulders. His companion, half 
crouching and still grinning, poised his weapon 
for business. 

“Give us the high gear, Kent,” urged Rex in a 
low tone. “Don’t try to keep too far away from 
them. It’ll be no disgrace if we do go into the 
drink.” 

As the canoes swept toward each other, one of 
Kingdon’s hands slid along the smooth pole until 
his hold on it was deceptively shortened. The 
other hand gripped close to the butt end. 

Melchor’s canoe came charging. In his eager- 
ness to strike, the red-haired chap lunged too 
soon and almost overreached. As the fellow re- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


145 


covered his balance with an effort, Rex thrust 
at him with all his might; but the stranger 
twisted his big body to one side with surprising 
agility, letting the sponge-tipped lance slide 
harmlessly past his shoulder. 

“Never touched me!” he jeered. “You’re not 
such a much after all.” 

The canoes swung about and charged again. 
As before, Rex shortened his hold on the spear 
and shifted his feet a trifle until he had per- 
fect balance. As the canoes came closer he saw 
that his opponent did not intend to repeat his 
mistake. Apparently he was holding himself 
back to get the full force of his blow, and the 
realization caused Rex suddenly to take the in- 
itiative. The two lances seemed to move simul- 
taneously, but Kingdon’s was a shade the swifter. 
It shot out accurately, propelled by the strength 
of his muscular arms, and the sponge, dripping 
with water, struck the big chap full in the chest 
and sent him overboard. 

Melchor, more skillful or more lucky than 
Vickers, managed to keep from capsizing. Stop- 
ping the canoe’s momentum, he swept the craft 
round as his discomfited comrade appeared, puf- 
fing and blowing and shaking the water from his 


146 


REX KINGDON 


thick reddish hair. Rex watched the fellow with 
curious speculation, wondering whether he would 
lose his temper like Brigham and Vickers. As 
the big chap secured his lance and came on with 
an easy, powerful stroke, the thought flashed 
into Kingdon’s mind that perhaps he meant to 
play some trick, such as upsetting their canoe. 
The stranger did catch hold of the prow, but 
it was to steady himself as he glanced up at Rex, 
his deeply tanned face showing no real resent- 
ment. 

“That’s one for you,” he admitted, “but you 
can’t repeat, my hearty. Come ahead, Tug, and 
take me aboard. I won’t rest till I’ve squared 
the score.” 

“Then you’re going to become exceedingly 
tired,” averred Rex. “You’ll have to sleep a 
week to get back to normal.” 

The other performed the extremely difficult 
stunt of climbing into the canoe from the water, 
going over one end as swiftly and easily as if 
he had been a featherweight instead of tipping 
the scales at a hundred and eighty or more. 
Then the canoes drew apart preparatory for an- 
other engagement. 

When the clash came, though he did his best, 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 147 

Kingdon failed to down the stranger; but he was 
successful in preserving his own equilibrium. 
The paddlers immediately did their part to put 
the spearmen at it again without delay, and there 
was little time for planning stratagems. With 
the thrust of the big chap’s spear, Rex twisted 
his body aside, as he had done before. The sponge 
slid past, but even as }ie was congratulating him- 
self on having successfully escaped again, the 
other canoe suddenly swerved, pressing the rod 
hard against Kingdon’s body, already precari- 
ously balanced. His effort to maintain his 
equilibrium was hopeless; he was swept off his 
feet and pitched headlong into the water. 

Coming up, he was aware for the first time 
that they had maneuvered rather close to the 
landing place on which the spectators were laugh- 
ing and cheering for the victor. Above the 
shriller voices of the others Bruce Brigham’s 
sneering tones sounded distinctly in Kingdon’s 
ears: 

“It’s a cinch, Red! That web-footed dub’s a 
shine at this game.” 

“He is, eh?” retorted the big chap as Rex 
swam to his own canoe and climbed in. “He 
dumped you and Vick into the wet about as easy 


148 


REX KINGDON 


as anything I ever saw. Well, we’re even, old 
top,” he called, turning to Kingdon. “How about 
one more go to decide the championship ?” 

“You’re on,” accepted Rex readily. “As many 
as you say. It’s more fun than I’ve had since 
I was in Rattan.” 

The canoes drew away to take room for the 
charge. Rex saw that Wrenshall, Lebaude and 
Scotty, having paddled up to the dock, were 
watching the sport. Nipper, letting his interest 
get the better of his fears for once, had advanced 
to the end of the planking and was standing with 
the owners of the camp. Vickers sat sullenly in 
his canoe, while Brigham, who was one of the 
most expert swimmers of the crowd, paddled 
about idly in the water. 

With a single glance Rex took this all in be- 
fore the signal to charge brought his attention 
back to the business in hand. The two canoes 
were maneuvered as before, both spearmen 
holding their weapons in readiness. They were 
still a dozen feet apart when Rex became aware 
of a sudden clamor from shore: 

“Hi, there! Look out for yourself!” 

“Look out, Rex ! Brig’s going to do you dirt !” 

“Off your starboard bow, old man !” 



“Look out, Rex! Brig’s going to do you dirt !” — Page 148 







IN THE NORTH WOODS 149 

Before Kingdon had time to look for the cause 
of the warnings, a head suddenly shot up beside 
the canoe and a muscular hand gripped the edge 
of the craft. Rex barely recognized Brigham, 
his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph, when 
another hand joined the first and a sharp surge 
capsized the canoe in a twinkling. 


150 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XVI. 

PHILLIPS OF WALCOTT HALL. 

Having realized in a flash that he was doomed 
to go over, Kingdon dived cleverly, turning while 
under water and swimming back to where a 
gleaming shadow indicated the presence of a body 
floating on the surface. 

This was Bruce Brigham, who was deriving 
the most side-splitting amusement from the dis- 
comfiture of his enemies. He was still letting 
out raucous yawps of mirth when, all at once, to 
the amazement of the onlookers, he flung up his 
arms, yelled wildly, and disappeared from view. 

Before the crowd had time to be alarmed, Rex 
Kingdon shot up out of the water as if propelled 
by a springboard. Then Brigham’s head ap- 
peared, and it was seen that Rex was fairly 
astride his broad back, having fastened both 
hands in Bruce’s rather long hair. 

“Bronco busting is my favorite parlor sport,” 
Kingdon declared. “I’ll guarantee to ride this 
one without saddle or bridle.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


151 


Sputtering and kicking, Brigham was forced 
under once more. When he came up again, hav- 
ing recovered from the first shock of surprise, he 
began a furious struggle to break away from the 
impudent fellow who was humiliating him. He 
turned and twisted and shook himself, but with 
small success. Rex clung to him like a leech. 
Again and again the big chap went under, but 
each time he came up the boy he hated had him 
by the hair and was astride his back. 

“He pitches like a real bronco,” Rex cried glee- 
fully, “but he’ll quiet down and take it easier in 
a minute.” 

The emotions of those witnessing this strange 
spectacle were varied, but mirth seemed to pre- 
dominate. After it was seen that Rex made no 
attempt to keep Brigham’s head under and that 
Bruce was in no real danger, even the latter’s 
own friends joined to some extent in the merri- 
ment of the boys from across the lake. The 
red-haired chap in Melchor’s canoe was most di- 
verted, laughing uproariously every now and 
then. 

“Bronco buster is your middle name, old top,” 
he declared. “You’ve got the art down to a fine 
point, and you’re a wiz.” 


152 


REX KINGDON 


Brigham’s lack of popularity was never more 
effectually demonstrated. In that crowd of a 
dozen boys, Dell Vickers was the only one to 
move in his defense, and for a time he did not 
do that, but instead kept urging the others to 
go to Bruce’s rescue. When it became plain that 
no one meant to follow his advice, he got into 
action and paddled out toward the struggling 
lads. Seeing the fellow coming, Rex kept on the 
alert. Not until the craft was alongside and Dell 
had raised his paddle for a vicious blow did Brig- 
ham’s tormentor seek to protect himself. Re- 
leasing his grip on Brigham’s hair, but still keep- 
ing his legs twisted around the boy’s body, he 
grasped the canoe and capsized it. As Vickers 
tumbled out Rex caught him by the back of the 
neck and forced him under. 

“The more the merrier,” he spluttered. “If 
anybody else wants some of this medicine let him 
wade right in.” 

By this time Brigham was so thoroughly done 
up that he was no longer formidable, and Rex 
gave his full attention to Vickers while Bruce 
swam heavily toward the shore. Dell was quickly 
“cured” and soon was begging whenever he 
could. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


153 


“Hadn’t you better send him to the stable, 
too?” suggested the highly amused stranger. 
“There isn’t another buck left in that bronco.” 

Rex was ready to let up, and he found himself 
compelled to assist Dell to reach shallow water 
from which he could wade ashore. The fellow 
seemed completely conquered. Brigham, who 
had regained his breath and some of his courage, 
stood on the bank shaking his fist at the trium- 
phant lad. 

“You wait !” he snarled. “You just wait! I’ll 
get square for this if it takes from now till 
Christmas. If it hadn’t been for a — er — cramp, 
you’d never ” 

“Go chase yourself !” cut in the red-haired chap 
contemptuously. “Own up that you got yours 
good and proper. You got stung. Don’t squeal 
about cramps.” 

White with rage, Brigham, followed by Dell 
Vickers, gave the speaker a resentful glare be- 
fore turning and walking toward one of the 
tents. When the worthy pair had disappeared, 
the big fellow looked quizzically down at King- 
don, who was floating nearby, keeping himself 
up by an occasional slight movement of his 
hands. 


154 


REX KINGDON 


“Two bum sports, that’s what they are,” said 
the stranger. “You’re different. I’ll bet a dollar 
you’re Rex Kingdom” 

“You’ve got my number,” confessed Rex in 
surprise. “I’ve never seen you before that I 
know of.” 

“Likely not, but I’ve been listening to the boys 
talk you over, and I put you down for Kingdon 
as soon as I spotted you. My name’s Larry 
Phillips. Maybe you’ve heard Chub speak of 
me.” 

A gleam of interest flashed into Kingdon’s 
eyes, for this chap was the wonderful cousin of 
whom Chub Taffinder had prated until most of 
the high school boys were sick of hearing his 
name. This was Phillips, of Walcott Hall, the 
famous prep school that was the goal of nearly 
every Ridgewood boy who looked forward to a 
college education. No wonder, thought Rex, that 
he had liked this athletic youth who could play 
fair and give an honorable antagonist a square 
show in a clash. He recalled the fact that Phil- 
lips had been fullback on the school eleven, stroke 
of the crew, and held many other important po- 
sitions in Walcott athletics. 

“I’m glad to know you,” Kingdon said quietly. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 155 

“Chub has mentioned you once or twice. Guess 
he didn’t lie about you, either.” 

“I’ll race you to the dock,” challenged Phillips 
suddenly. 

Without waiting for Kingdon’s acceptance, he 
dove from the canoe — no easy feat — and made 
for the landing with a swift crawl stroke. Rex 
followed, but the start he had obtained was suf- 
ficient to enable the red-haired chap to reach the 
goal six or eight feet in advance. 

“Cutting out the lead I got by diving, that 
was pretty close to a tie,” he admitted. “You’re 
a real poor swimmer, aren’t you?” 

“Hardly paddle around,” returned Kingdon, 
swinging himself up on the float. 

He was more than curious to learn why this 
second party from Ridgewood had come up into 
the woods, and presently his desire was grati- 
fied. The very day after the departure of Rex 
and his companions, Phillips had arrived for a 
short visit with his relatives. On hearing about 
the camping expedition, he promptly suggested 
that the example should be followed and a rival 
camp established on the same lake. Brigham 
and Vickers, who had dropped out of the other 
party because of their dislike and jealousy toward 


156 


REX KINGDON 


Kingdon, eagerly agreed with the proposal. 
Parents who had refused to let their sons go with 
the first expedition were persuaded to entrust 
them to Phillips’ chaperonage, and before twen- 
ty-four hours elapsed the party was on its way. 

“I proposed coming over yesterday and call- 
ing on you,” stated the red-haired chap in con- 
clusion, “but Brigham and Vickers balked. 
They’re sort of in love with you, aren’t they?” 

“Not to the extent that we kiss in public,” re- 
plied Rex. “Sometimes I shed bitter tears to 
think what dear friends we might be — and 
aren’t; but the most of the time Pm resigned. 
Choosing enemies is really an art, you know. If 
you’re going to have ’em, you might as well 
pick out the interesting sort. Well, I reckon it’s 
about time for us to be hiking, fellows.” 

“What’s your rush?” protested Phillips as 
Kingdon stood up, followed by the rest of the 
party. 

“Got to get back and cook supper. It’s my 
turn to demonstrate the fine points of the culi- 
nary art.” 

“Is that all? I know an easy way out of that. 
Stay here for supper.” 

Rex raised his eyebrows. “Here — the whole 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


157 


bunch of us? My dear fellow, you’ve never seen 
us eat.” 

“Don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of grub, and 
I’ll make your crowd do their share of the work, 
all right. Come on, stay for supper and spend 
the night. To-morrow we’ll come over and visit 
your ranch. How about it, fellows?” 

There was an instant chorus of agreement 
from the other members of Phillips’ camping 
party. Aside from Brigham and Vickers, who 
still sulked in one of the tents, they were all ad- 
mirers of Kingdon. Rex glanced round at his 
own friends, and saw nothing but approval and 
acquiescence on every face. 

“Looks as if the vote to accept was unani- 
mous,” he admitted. “I hope you haven’t asked 
us just out of politeness.” 

“Politeness be blowed !” cried Phillips in great 
satisfaction. “While the armistice is in force 
we’ll try to enjoy the cooing of the gentle dove 
of peace.” 


158 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XVII. 

the; FELLOW who PLOTTED. 

Preparations for supper, and the meal itself, 
proceeded in a gale of merriment. Brigham and 
Vickers kept aloof, to be sure, but Rex had re- 
solved to pay no attention to their grouchiness, 
and therefore his enjoyment was not in the least 
affected. After the meal was disposed of, and 
the dishes washed, a big fire was built on 
the slope in front of the tents, and the boys gath- 
ered around loungingly. Melchor, shellacking a 
flyrod that had become watersoaked, was the 
only industrious one of the party. 

“This is the way I enjoy working,” drawled 
Kingdon, stretching his slim length luxuriously 
to the blaze. “I’ve been thinking how odd it is 
we didn’t get a glimpse of you before this morn- 
ing. You were here all day yesterday, weren’t 
you?” 

“Right here,” affirmed Phillips ; “but we spent 
all our time putting the camp in shape. How did 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


159 


you come to see us this morning? I thought 
your place was ’way up the lake.” 

“Not so very far,” returned Rex. “We hap- 
pened to be down this way when two of your 
canoes came out and went down through the 
narrows toward the river.” 

“Oh !” laughed Phillips. “That was Dell and 
Brig and Tug and I doing our thrilling act en- 
titled ‘Flirting with Doom’ — said doom being, in 
this case, the cute little waterfall down the 
river.” 

“Jiminy!” exclaimed Nipper Ware in an awed 
tone. “You don’t go down over it, do you? It’s 
a forty-foot drop, at least.” 

“Not being impatient for a hurried jump into 
the next world,” answered Phillips, “we don’t 
go quite that far. The game is to see which of 
us can come the closest to the falls in a canoe. 
Tug and I have beaten Brig and Dell twice run- 
ning, and it’s getting to be a bit monotonous.” 

“Is that so?” sniffed Vickers, sitting with 
Brigham somewhat apart from the main group. 
■“Well, Kingdon’s such a wonderful athlete and 
so nervy, why don’t you try him at it?” 

‘T don’t know,” murmured the red-haired chap 
doubtfully. “We’ve been there and got wise to 


160 


REX KINGDON 


the currents, but it might be too risky for a 
stranger.” 

“Reckon it would, for this stranger,” sneered 
Vickers. “Some people are great bluffers, but 
when it comes to doing ” 

“Don’t talk about bluff, Vickers,” drawled Rex 
with a slight touch of annoyance. “At a dis- 
tance you look like the Hudson Palisades, but at 
short range you’re about as solid as a thin fog.” 
He turned to Phillips. “I’ll make a suggestion. 
Why not get up a regular free-for-all affair, with 
everybody entering? Buck and I can man one 
of our canoes, Wren and Baudie the other. With 
your two, we’d have quite a list of entries — un- 
less, of course, Vickers doesn’t feel like taking 
part.” 

The delicate emphasis on the last words 
brought a flush of anger into Vickers’ face and 
a hot denial to his lips. The proposition met 
with an enthusiastic reception, and Phillips pro- 
ceeded to plan the affair. 

“Stop fussing with that old rod and come over 
here, Tug,” he called to Melchor. “We’ve got 
something on hand that’s more exciting than fish- 
ing.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


161 


“One more dab and it’s done,” returned Tug, 
laying on a last brushful of shellac. 

Gathering up brush and can, he carried them 
to a shelf that had been made between two trees, 
carefully put away the section of rod he had 
been operating on, and joined the others by the 
fire. 

The remaining time until the early retiring 
hour was spent in an interested discussion of the 
proposed “test of nerve.” Currents and their 
direction and strength formed a topic. Phillips 
and Tug told how close they had ventured to 
the falls, and predicted that no one would dare 
go further. Before dark the crowd went down 
to the dock to inspect Kingdon’s canoe and pad- 
dles, and Rex discovered that only one of the 
latter was in the craft. 

“Say, Kent,” he called, “what about the paddle 
you dropped when you grabbed Brig’s spear? I 
don’t believe ” 

“Here it is,” said Wrenshall, bending over 
the other canoe. “We found it floating, and 
salvaged it.” 

Phillips took the paddle from Wrenshall’s 
hands, ran his fingers over its smooth length and 
balanced it carefully. 


162 


REX KINGDON 


“Nice one,” he commented, handing it to the 
owner. “That’ll carry you through and stand 
most any amount of strain — all you’ll ever put 
on it, at least.” 

They returned to the fire and resumed their 
discussion, in which all joined save one. As the 
talk and planning progressed even Vickers, lit- 
tle by little, allowed his interest in the coming 
event to overshadow his hatred for Kingdon. 
He kept moving a little closer to the crowd in 
order that he might miss nothing, and so Brig- 
ham was left noticeably alone, a solitary, silent 
figure outside the circle of his companions. 

If Bruce noticed his isolation, or was at all 
troubled thereby, he did not show it. Leaning 
against the rough trunk of a big hemlock, his 
arms folded, his canvas hat pulled down over his 
eyes, he seemed so still that one or two of the 
boys, glancing at him, imagined he had gone to 
sleep. 

But sleep had never been further from Bruce 
Brigham’s eyes. His smoldering rage kept his 
brain alert and keenly active. From the moment 
of taking that position one question, and one 
question only, had filled his mind: How could 
he get even with Rex Kingdon? How could 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


163 


he properly retaliate upon the fellow who had 
humiliated him? 

From beneath the drooping hat brim he 
watched the laughing youth he regarded as an 
enemy, his eyes full of a gleam of mingled hatred 
and perplexity. The answer to the question that 
troubled him did not come readily. The nor- 
mal boy with a grudge, if the provocation is 
strong enough, usually brings about a physical 
encounter ; but with discouraging clearness, 
Bruce remembered Kingdon’s athletic debut at 
Ridgewood High School, when, in a single after- 
noon, the newcomer had twice pinned Tug Mel- 
chor’s shoulders to the wrestling mat and then 
practically knocked out Kent Starbuck with box- 
ing gloves. Bruce knew himself to be inferior 
in skill to either of those fellows, and therefore 
he would have no chance at all in a fight. He 
must devise some other method of revenge. 

Although his mind was thus engaged, he lis- 
tened to every word spoken by the group at the 
fire, and when they went down to the float, he 
watched their movements closely and saw Phil- 
lips take up one of Kingdon’s paddles and pass 
his hand over the varnished surface. Suddenly 
he smothered an exclamation of triumph. 


164 


REX KINGDON 


Twilight engulfed the camp, yet during the 
bustle of settling for the night, sharing of blank- 
ets and rearranging beds, no one gave any atten- 
tion to the sullen fellow beneath the hemlock or 
cared much what he was doing. Finally, how- 
ever, Vickers observed that he had risen and was 
lounging indolently against one of the trees sup- 
porting the rough shelves that had been put up 
to keep certain articles on. A moment or two 
later Dell was puzzled by losing sight of his crony 
completely. It was not until Vickers was ready 
for bed that Brigham suddenly reappeared and, 
without comment, began to arrange his blankets 
on the ground outside the tent flap. 

“I say,” cried Vickers in surprise, “how long 
since you caught the fresh air bug?” 

“It’s too hot to sleep inside,” retorted Brig- 
ham shortly. 

“Hot!” sniffed Dell. “It’s not near so hot 
as last night — and you didn’t have any kick com- 
ing then.” 

“Well, it’s too hot to-night,” snapped the other 
in a tone that shut up the voluble Vickers. 

From his bed on some fragrant — but not too 
soft — pine boughs, just within the entrance of 
the large tent, the flap of which was raised, hear- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 165- 

ing this brief dialogue, Rex smiled a bit at 
Brigham’s childish ill temper. Healthily tired, 
and with a clear conscience, he quickly dropped 
off to sleep; but later he was half roused to con- 
sciousness by a sound that either came from a 
considerable distance or was a very slight noise 
at hand. After listening sleepily for a few mo- 
ments, he shifted his position to a more com- 
fortable one and wooed slumber again. 

Had he suspected for a moment the cause of 
that sound or the purpose of the person who made 
it, slumber would not have resealed his eyelids 
so quickly, nor would he have slept so peacefully 
through the hours of darkness — and ill doing. 


166 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE RESUI/T. 

Breakfast next morning was a hurried affair, 
and, as soon as possible, there was a general rush 
toward the landing place. About halfway down 
the slope Rex, bringing up the rear with Phil- 
lips, was amused to see Starbuck trip and plunge 
headlong. Instead of springing up with his usual 
impetuosity, however, Kent rose slowly, holding 
■one hand with the other. Several boys gath- 
ered around him, and the sound of their voices, 
uttering commiserations, reached Kingdon’s 
ears. A moment later Rex pushed his way to 
his chum’s side and gazed in dismay at a wide, 
deep cut in the fleshy part of Starbuck’s palm, 
from which the blood flowed freely. 

“How the deuce did you do that?” Kingdon 
cried in dismay. 

“Bottle!” snapped Starbuck, kicking viciously 
at a chunk of broken glass which had lain hidden 
in the grass. “Nice thing for anybody to toss 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 167 

down there! I’m afraid I’m out of the race, 
fellows.” 

“That’s what you are!” ejaculated Phillips, 
who had come up. “You won’t be able to hold 
a paddle for a week or more. Here, Chub, beat 
it back and bring the Red Cross kit.” 

Taffinder departed on a panting run, and Star- 
buck, holding the edges of the cut together as 
best he could, looked sadly at Rex. 

“Can you beat it?” he inquired in a tone of 
rueful annoyance. “I don’t give a whoop for 
the old cut, but I did want to take part in this 
frolic. What will you do, anyhow, old man? 
Everyone’s paired off, and there’s nobody left 
to take my place.” 

“I’m a dub at paddling,” put in Scott promptly, 
“but if I can help out ” 

He paused as Dell Vickers, his face set in 
lines of disgust and disappointment, hurried up. 

“Here’s a nice mess!” Dell exclaimed crossly. 
“Bruce is sick and can’t go.” 

“Sick!” echoed Phillips in surprise. “What’s 
the matter with him ? He was all right at break- 
fast.” 

“He feels dizzy and his head aches. He says 
he thought it would pass off, so he didn’t speak 


168 


REX KINGDON 


about it before. It’s worse, and he took some 
medicine and is lying down in the tent. I wish 
it might have held off for a few hours. Here 
I’m left with no one to help me out — unless you 
go, Dud,” he concluded as a sort of afterthought, 
glancing at Durand. 

The latter promptly shook his head. “No, 
thanks. You don’t get me to take part in this 
crazy business. I’ve got more regard for my 
life.” 

Vickers sniffed, and his gaze wandered hope- 
lessly over the faces of the others. He seemed 
genuinely disappointed, and Rex, who had been 
watching him closely, was seized with a sudden 
impulse. 

“I reckon you and I will have to hook up to- 
gether, Vickers,” he said invitingly. “Kent’s 
cut his hand and can’t go, so I’m left without a 
partner. How does it hit you?” 

Vickers turned and stared at the speaker in 
frowning amazement. “Go with you!” he ex- 
claimed. “Why, I wanted to beat ” He 

broke off, coloring a little and biting his lip. 

Kingdon laughed lightly. “You can try that 
some other time. Suppose we see what it’s like 
pulling together to-day. I’ve a notion we can 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 169 

beat Phillips and Tug — unless, of course, you’d 
rather not go at all.” 

For a moment Dell hesitated, struggling 
against his dislike for the chap who had made 
the proposition. If he refused the latter’s offer 
he was certain some of the fellows would say 
he was afraid, in spite of the fact that canoeing 
was one of the few athletic sports at which he 
excelled. 

“All right,” he agreed at last, “I’ll go.” 

Phillips was dressing Starbuck’s hand and, 
with assistance, he soon completed the job. Then 
Rex led the way to the landing place, where he 
gave Vickers the choice, and the latter took the 
stern of the canoe. The contestants lost no fur- 
ther time in getting away. The nonparticipants, 
now including Starbuck, all anxious to watch the 
exciting affair, hastened away along the bank. 
Taffinder, however, was delayed by having to 
return the emergency kit to its place in camp, 
and he was the only lad in sight when Brigham 
stepped suddenly from the tent and hailed him. 

“Are they off?” Bruce asked nervously as 
Chub paused with evident reluctance. “Where’s 
Dell?” 


170 


REX KINGDON 


“Gone with Kingdon,” answered the fat boy, 
edging away. 

Brigham caught his breath and stared dazedly 
at the smaller lad. “With — Kingdon!” he 
gasped. “I thought — Starbuck ” 

“He cut his hand so he couldn’t go,” explained 
Chub impatiently. “Dell took his place.” 

Brigham reached out and steadied himself by 
grasping one of the guy ropes. His face was 
white. “In — Kingdon’s canoe?” he stammered. 

“Co-rect,” said Taffinder. “I ’ve gotta get 
along or I’ll never catch up.” He started to run, 
but paused and flung back a bit of advice over 
his shoulder: “You better lie down, Brig; you 

look awful sick.” 

% 

Then he raced off through the trees and dis- 
appeared, leaving the older chap standing mo- 
tionless beside the tent. Vickers in that canoe! 
This was a turn of fate Brigham had not fore- 
seen. A shiver ran over him, and then, with a 
sudden impulse, he snatched his hat from inside 
the tent and started running toward the lake. 

He reached the bank in time to see the canoes 
bearing toward the mouth of the river a few hun- 
dred yards away. Driven by the impulse to con- 
fess what he had done before it was too late, and 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 171 

so avert any possibility of a catastrophe, he had 
covered the distance swiftly; but now, within 
hailing distance of the fellows, an unexpected 
mental twist sealed his lips and kept him silent. 
He could not confess — it was impossible. Be- 
sides, the thing he dreaded was not a certainty; 
they might turn back before it was too late. 

Nevertheless, hurrying along the bank and 
keeping the frail craft constantly in sight, yet 
remaining hidden himself among the trees, he 
was conscious of a sinking sense of dread. What 
if the worst should happen? 

“What made me do it?” he panted in self- 
reproach as something like a realization of his 
villainy began to overwhelm him. “If the fel- 
lows ever find out they’ll all turn against me.” 
Then, trying to put it on someone else, he 
snarled: “It’s all Kingdon’s fault! I couldn’t 
help it, I hate him so much!” 

Presently the canoes left the lake and entered 
the river which served as an outlet. The force 
of the current was quite perceptible, and Brig- 
ham was obliged to increase his pace to a smart 
trot -in order to keep the light craft in view. 
Ahead of him he could hear the other boys crash- 


172 


REX KINGDON 


ing through the bushes; once or twice he even 
caught a glimpse of the back of someone slower 
than the rest; but he was at particular pains to 
let none of them see him. More than ever, he 
meant to preserve the knowledge of his presence 
a secret; they must not suspect that the illness 
which had kept him from taking part in the race 
was anything but real. 

Soon, however, there came a moment when he 
ceased to think of whether the others saw him 
or not; he failed, for a brief space, to think even 
of himself. The river grew narrower and flowed 
with increasing swiftness between rocky banks 
ten or twelve feet high. The last bend was 
reached, and ahead there lay an almost straight 
half mile course that terminated at the verge of 
the falls, over which the whole vast volume of 
water plunged roaring into the rocky basin far 
below. Bruce’s distress increased with every 
passing moment. Breathlessly watching the 
canoes nearing a dead tree that marked the limit 
of even Phillips’ daring, he began to quake and 
shudder. The paddlers were backing water con- 
stantly and with ever-increasing effort, and he 
noticed particularly how great a strain was be- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


173 


ing put upon the paddles. Cold perspiration 
broke out on his forehead. Why had he ever 
given in to that awful, cowardly impulse? 

One of the canoes turned back, but he did not 
heed it. His straining eyes were fixed on the 
one occupied by Kingdon and Vickers. He had 
not realized a tithe of what his shameful action 
might bring about; he had not thought of any- 
thing save that in acting as he did he would gain 
revenge — would make Kingdon suffer for the 
humiliation he himself had endured. 

Another canoe turned back. A moment later, 
the remaining two passed the stump. Then 
Phillips swept his craft round and began labori- 
ously to fight back against the current. 

Brigham was running again, his breath com- 
ing in labored gasps, his eyes, full of fear and 
despair, fixed on the fourth canoe. Suddenly 
the tortured boy’s self-control snapped like a taut 
thread, and he shrieked aloud in a burst of wild 
hysteria : 

“Stop ! Stop ! Come back ! You’ll be ” 

The words, drowned by the roar of the cat- 
aract, ended in a groan as the catastrophe Brig- 
ham had dreaded came to pass. Twenty feet 
or more below the dead tree the victorious canoe 


174 


REX KINGDON 


began slowly to turn. The strong sweep of 
Kingdon’s paddle, aided considerably by his part- 
ner s skillful work, had brought the craft part 
way round when, without a single preliminary 
warning, Vickers’ paddle snapped clean in two. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


175 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A LESSON TO REMEMBER. 

Rex did not need the gasping cry that burst 
from Dell’s lips to tell him what had happened; 
the sudden lurching of the canoe and the swift 
swinging back into the current was enough. For 
an instant cold fear chilled him through. 

But, though he was afraid, he kept a tight rein 
on his emotions. The added test upon his own 
paddle was tremendous, yet for a short time he 
managed, with straining muscles, to hold the 
craft against the rushing current. He even suc- 
ceeded in sweeping the canoe close in against the 
rocky bank, hoping against hope for some slight 
hold or means of safety. When his own paddle 
splintered under the strain his face turned barely 
a shade less brown and his jaws clenched reso- 
lutely. 

As they were whirled around toward the roar- 
ing cataract, Rex glanced, by chance, at the bit 
of broken paddle in his hand and saw to his be- 
wilderment that half of the fracture was a clean, 


176 


REX KINGDON 


straight cut, contrasting sharply with the jagged 
splintering of the remainder. The paddle had 
been sawed halfway through. He wondered 
what coward had done the thing and surmised 
it to be Brigham; yet at the same instant he 
realized that he would probably never know. 

The broken bit of ash was tossed into the rush- 
ing current, and Kingdon searched the rocky 
bank with feverish eagerness. The surface pre- 
sented nothing to lay hold upon. Along the top 
two of the fellows were running madly, but, even 
as Rex caught a glimpse of them, they were 
whisked back out of sight with the jerky abrupt- 
ness of pictures on a screen. Rex turned his pale, 
strained face toward that ominous straight line, 
now so perilously near. There the river seemed 
to end with the clean exactness of a knife edge. 

Then, for the first time, a gleam of hope leaped 
into his eyes. A twisted, distorted pine, rooted 
in a cleft of the rocks, thrust its gnarled trunk 
and ragged crown out over the rushing torrent. 
Rex wondered if he could reach it, and knew it 
was either that or the rocks at the foot of the 
falls. He crouched, his muscles gathered for a 
swift upward movement; then he suddenly re- 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 177 

membered Vickers. For a flash he cringed, and 
then 

“Dell !” he cried sharply. “I’m going to jump 
for that tree. Grab me round the waist when 
you’re swept under. Get me?” 

There was no response. The canoe rushed on. 
In a few seconds they would reach the pine. 
With every muscle rigid, Rex raised himself cau- 
tiously, crouching for the leap. 

From the tree he saw a small stout limb pro- 
jecting, and he selected it upon which to fasten 
his clutch close to the trunk. If it stood the 
strain there was a ghost of a chance; if it broke 
— well, he would have played his last card, and 
lost; that was all. 

“Grab me, Dell!” he shouted as he launched 
himself at the limb. 

He caught it and clung fast like a trapeze per- 
former. Simultaneously, it seemed, two arms 
clutched his loins and held on, though the jerk 
and the added weight brought an awful strain 
on his hands and arms. 

Rex wondered how long he could hold out and 
whether the boys were far behind; and then the 
fear came that, even if they did show up in time, 
they might not be able to render aid. 


178 


REX KINGDON 


What fools they all had been to tempt Provi- 
dence by this hair-brained escapade ! Even if the 
paddles had not been tampered with, something 
else might have happened. If he escaped, it 
would be a lesson he would not soon forget. He 
heard Dell sobbing in a gasping, terrified way 
which shook his whole body. 

“What is it ?” Rex asked huskily. 

“I’m slipping,” quavered Vickers. “My legs 
are in the water almost to my knees. I can’t 
hold ” 

“Hang fast!” rasped Kingdon through his 
teeth. “You’ve got a cinch compared to me.” 
He ended with a choking cry of joy, for Star- 
buck, pale and breathless, had suddenly appeared 
in his line of vision. For the tiniest fraction of 
time Starbuck crouched on the bank above the 
crevice in which the tree had root. Then, with 
reckless haste, he came sliding down and alighted 
on the inclined trunk, at the same time shouting 
to the other boys. 

“Hang on, Rex!” he pleaded, crawling swiftly 
out and grasping his chum’s wrists, forgetful 
of the injury to his own bandaged hand. “The 
fellows will be here in a jiffy. If I had a rope 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


179 


“Their belts,” panted Rex. “If they’re only 
strong enough!” 

Nipper Ware and Shrimp Ballard came dash- 
ing up. 

“Down here!” called Starbuck. “Off with 
your belts. Buckle ’em together and over the 
trunk. Let the loop down for Dell so’s to take 
the weight off Rex. Hustle!” 

By this time the boys were all clustered on the 
bank, and they hustled. Their leather belts were 
snatched off and buckled together without loss 
of a moment. Nevertheless, to Rex their move- 
ments seemed maddeningly slow, for the drag- 
ging weight of Vickers’ body became greater 
with each passing instant. He could feel the 
ceaseless tugging of the current through the 
arms which gripped him so despairingly. His 
own arms were numb and dead save only in the 
finger-tips, and there it felt as if red-hot needles 
were piercing the flesh. Starbuck, grasping his 
wrists, continued to utter words of encourage- 
ment. 

At last the string of belts was ready, and it 
was Nipper who crawled out and buckled the end 
one around the tree trunk. The lowest loop dan- 
gled in such a position that Vickers, instructed 


180 


REX KINGDON 


by the boys, was able to draw up one foot and 
thrust his leg through it. More than half ex- 
pecting they would snap beneath his weight, he 
shifted his hold from Kingdon to the belts. They 
supported him safely. 

Relieved in a measure of the tremendous 
strain, Rex hung motionless for a moment or 
two before permitting Starbuck to assist him in 
climbing up to a perch on the tree trunk. He 
finally reached it quite out of breath. Shaking 
in every limb, though not from fear, he crept 
to the rocky shore and was given aid by the 
rejoicing boys on the bank above. 

In the meantime Starbuck and Ware — the lat- 
ter was proving himself built of heroic stuff in 
this emergency — were helping Vickers, who, 
reaching the tree trunk, crawled ashore, and was 
hoisted to the bank; he promptly collapsed in a 
heap. 

Rex looked down at Dell, a quizzical smile 
slowly curving his lips. “He doesn’t look so 
heavy,” he said, “but I’ll give anybody odds of 
two to one that he weighs a ton. It’s a good 
thing you weren’t in his place, Chub; both my 
arms would have been pulled out by the roots.” 

Phillips and the other canoeists suddenly came 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


181 


bursting through the trees, and Rex smiled still 
more broadly. “You’re a bit late for the grand 
finale of the performance, gentlemen,” he an- 
nounced, “and there’ll be no repetition to-day.” 

Larry Phillips stared at him, an odd expression 
in his gray eyes. Presently his freckled face re- 
laxed, and he smote Rex on the back with no 
gentle hand. 

“You’re yellow,” he exclaimed — “yellow as 
pure gold! And that’s the stuff you’re made of! 
Wish we were going to have you on the football 
team next fall. When that second paddle 
snapped, and you went tearing down stream, I 
came near passing away. Funny thing about 
those paddles breaking. I’d have trusted myself 
anywhere with the one I looked at last night. 
Perhaps the other was flawed, and when that 
went the double strain was too much for the 
good one.” 

“Perhaps that was it,” said Kingdon, his jaw 
tightening the least bit and his eyes hardening 
for a moment. “It was a fool stunt, anyhow, 
Larry. So I decided while I was hanging to the 
limb of the tree down there.” 

“I fully agree with you, Rex, and I’m so proud 
of my part in the performance, that you’ll never 


18S5 


REX KINGDON 


hear me telling anybody about it. We had to 
chase back an everlasting ways before we could 
land, and when I saw you two dangling, I realized 
what I’d got you in for. Oh, yes, it was a very 
proud and happy moment for me! What idiots 
we fellows were! The average inmate of a 
nut factory is a wise gazabo compared with any 
of us.” 

By this time Vickers had recovered, and was 
the somewhat shamefaced center of a group of 
the smaller boys, all morbidly curious to know 
how he felt. Now and then, on the way back to 
camp, he cast an odd glance at Kingdon; but 
neither then nor afterward did he broach the sub- 
ject of his rescue to the chap who had saved him 
from almost certain death. He felt that he 
couldn’t talk about it, and he was irritated and 
annoyed by the change in his sentiments toward 
Rex; it was against his desire to like Kingdon 
any more than he had before. 

From the first, they had been opposed in every- 
thing, and Dell had never lost an opportunity to 
sneer at the other lad, even stooping to try to 
fasten on Rex the stigma of dishonesty. To 
picture himself caring at all for the fellow was as 
distasteful as it was difficult, yet precisely that 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 183 

transformation was being worked in him in spite 
of himself. Gratitude came first, then admira- 
tion, and, last of all, a sense of liking — an awk- 
ward, embarrassed wonder as to how it would 
seem to have Kingdon for a friend. 

Dell tried to thrust these reflections from his 
mind, wondering what Brig would think of such 
softness. He found it to be something, however, 
not to be uprooted and flung aside as easily as a 
wayside weed. Tucked away in a corner of his 
brain, it grew and expanded until at length Vick- 
ers found himself deciding that, after all, what 
Bruce thought or felt on the subject was imma- 
terial. 

“He’s to blame for the whole business, any- 
how,” he muttered under his breath. “If he 
hadn’t quit to-day, I’d never have been in the 
blooming canoe. So I guess he can cut out any 
remarks on the subject.” 


184 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XX. 

The penalty. 

Such is the careless exuberance of youth that, 
even before reaching camp, the serious features 
of that chapter of accidents had been forgotten. 
Interestedly and admiringly, the boys discussed 
Kingdon’s athletic prowess in making that spec- 
tacular rescue of himself and his companion 
from the doomed canoe. Vickers was praised, 
too, more than one fellow remarking that he’d 
never have believed Dell could hold on so long. 
The puzzle of the paddles breaking when they 
did absorbed the minds of several of the older 
lads, but nobody thought of bringing up the 
“might have beens,” or stopped his chatter long 
enough to consider the ghastly consequences had 
Rex failed to grasp the limb of that overhanging 
pine. 

Kingdon was no exception, for he did not be- 
lieve in exciting himself over the things which 
hadn’t happened, especially when his mind was 
already filled with much more tangible worries. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


185 


Chief of these was the suspicion that he knew 
whom to thank for their narrow escape; and, 
running it a close second, was a growing realiza- 
tion of the discomfort and inconvenience the loss 
of their canoe would cause the whole party. 
Coming within sight of where the three canoes 
had been hastily left, he made a half joking com- 
ment on that subject which was taken rather 
seriously. 

“It’s a shame !” exclaimed Phillips. “I’ve been 
thinking about that, and I reckon you’ll have to 
use one of ours until you can scare up some- 
thing to take its place.” 

“But that’ll put you fellows in a hole,” pro- 
tested Rex. 

“Oh, we’ve got three, you know, and it won’t 
hurt the kids to take turns going out. What do 
you say if we slip up to Tobique to-morrow and 
see what’s doing in the way of sea-going hacks 
for hire?” 

Rex agreed, though protesting that it wasn’t 
up to Phillips to replace the lost canoe. But the 
older chap was evidently accustomed to having 
his own way, and with an air of easy firmness 
and complete finality cultivated to perfection only 
by the leaders and big athletes in a school like 


186 


REX KINGDON 


Walcott Hall, he informed Kingdon that, hav- 
ing made it his business, “there was nothing 
more to be said.” 

“Fade away, old top!” he laughed, stepping 
into his light craft and taking up the paddle. 
“Never contradict your elders. Forget to wind 
the alarm, Tug?” he called to Melchor, who was 
dawdling on the bank. “Swallow a little dyna- 
mite and thump yourself on the chest; it’s fine 
to wake a fellow up suddenly.” 

With a somewhat inane retort, Melchor took 
his position in the other end of the canoe; and 
Phillips, remarking casually that he meant to 
reach camp before anyone else, afoot or horse- 
back, pushed off from shore. Rex smiled to him- 
self as he set off briskly through the trees, but 
soon that smile faded. The thought of those 
treacherously sawn paddles had popped back into 
his mind again, and this time it lingered. 

Among the campers there were just two who 
disliked him to a degree that made it possible 
they would perpetrate such a trick. Vickers was 
one, but he could be eliminated. Had he known 
about the paddles, no sort of persuasion could 
have induced him to trust himself to that canoe. 
There remained only Brigham. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


187 


Rex could not bring himself to believe that 
Bruce had realized the possible consequences of 
his cowardly action. With a dull and unimagi- 
native mind, it was probable that he had not 
looked forward to the possible tragedy that had 
barely been averted. Driven into a state of sullen 
fury by the fooling of the afternoon before, he 
doubtless had seized the first chance of getting 
even, and had tampered with the paddles merely 
for the purpose of making Rex fail in the con- 
test. He must have accomplished his sneaking 
work sometime between supper time and day- 
break; and Kingdon remembered, with a sudden 
sense of conviction, that he had awakened in the 
night and heard a slight scraping sound of a 
puzzling nature. 

“It was that rotter sawing my paddles!” he 
growled. “How did he fill up the cracks, I won- 
der? Glue and sawdust would do it, I suppose, 
with a coating of shellac. Even sawdust and 
shellac might work — and there was Tug’s can 
of shellac ready for use!” 

He remembered also that Brigham had spread 
his blankets outside the tent, making it possible 
for him to move about the camp with little risk 
of detection. His sudden illness, which had pro- 


188 


REX KINGDON 


vided a ready excuse for him to drop out of the 
contest, also looked suspicious; and by the time 
camp was reached Rex hadn’t a doubt in his 
mind that Bruce was to blame for their close 
call. 

The canoes and the walkers struck the place at 
almost the same moment, and for a time noise 
and bustle, loud talk and frequent laughter re- 
sounded. While contributing his share to the 
joshing and banter, Rex kept one eye on Brig- 
ham’s tent, and presently he saw Bruce step 
slowly forth and hesitate a moment or two before 
engaging Chub Taffinder in conversation. 

“Finding out all about it,” murmured Kingdon 
under his breath. “You’d fancy he’d be a bit 
fussed, but he doesn’t seem to turn a hair.” 

Could he have known that Bruce had seen 
everything, including the sensational rescue, and 
had been back in camp barely five minutes, Rex 
would have understood the fellow’s apparently 
unnatural self-possession. As it was, Brigham’s 
seeming callousness irritated him. Nevertheless, 
he was struck by the boy’s pallor and an expres- 
sion of strain and sufifering about his eyes. He 
looked really ill, and Rex, deciding to put him to 
the test later, walked toward the tent where he 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


189 


had slept last night. He was passing Brigham 
when, to his surprise, the fellow spoke. 

“I hear you had — an accident,” Bruce said 
awkwardly, yet with an undercurrent of earnest- 
ness in his voice which puzzled Rex. “I’m — 
mighty glad it wasn’t any worse.” 

Kingdon’s lips curled, but his voice and man- 
ner were deceptively smooth as he said, “Yes, it 
might have been worse, I suppose.” 

There was a pause, finally broken by Bruce in 
sheer desperation. 

“Funny thing, your paddles breaking that 
way,” he said nervously, possibly actuated by the 
inexplicable fascination which brings many crim- 
inals back to the scenes of their misdeeds. “I 
can’t understand it at all.” 

Kingdon’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t you? It 
was really very natural.” 

Brigham’s jaw dropped and he stared in a 
bewildered and almost frightened manner at 
Rex. 

“Wa-what do you mean?” he stammered. 
“Why should they break?” 

Kingdon gazed steadily at the uneasy fellow, 
and Brigham tried in vain to meet his eye. 

“Because they were sawed part way through 


190 


REX KINGDON 


by somebody who wanted them to smash,” Rex 
stated deliberately. “Last night, after we’d gone 
to bed, someone sneaked them off into the woods, 
made the little cuts, repaired the visible damage 
with sawdust and shellac, and replaced them in 
the canoe. A job to be proud of, wasn’t it?” 

“It was a — a mean trick,” said Bruce huskily. 
“That’s what I think about it.” 

“It was — and then some!” 

' “Who do you think did it?” 

“If I wanted to,” declared Rex, “I could put 
my hand on him in a second. But I don’t want 
to — I don’t want to dirty my hand. Don’t back 
away, Brigham. I want to state that I can’t 
bring myself to believe the fellow realized just 
what he was doing, and that is why I don’t light 
on him, all spraddled out. If he’s got any sense, 
however, he knows now that he came within an 
ace of putting himself in the same class with 
the late unlamented Mr. Cain. That ought to 
make him proud of himself.” 

He got his sweater from the tent and returned 
to the group at the float. Dudley Durand had 
joined the crowd, carrying a handsome rifle 
which, like many of his possessions, was the best 
that money could buy. Everyone flocked about 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


191 ' 


to examine it, and, coming up, Rex heard Louis 
Lebaude’s voice raised in shrill excitement : 

“You shoot at ze loon yesterday?” the Cana- 
dian lad questioned hurriedly. “You say ze bul- 
let she curve over toward our point? I do not 
understan’. How can she so great a curve 
make?” 

“It’s like a skipping stone,” explained Tug 
Melchor good-naturedly. “You’ve seen a stone 
take a curve as it skipped, haven’t you ? Some- 
times a bullet does the same thing. I suppose a 
little wave deflects it from a straight course at 
first. We must have been half or three-quarters 
of a mile from your point when Dud fired at the 
loon yesterday, and I saw the bullet curve that 
way after it struck the water.” 

Face flushed and eyes shining, the Canadian 
lad whirled on Rex Kingdon. “You hear, ol’ 
man?” he cried excitedly. “You understan’? I 
was right, it was not Michaud who shoot. I 
knew it could not be heem, but no one of you 
would listen.” 

“Reckon we’ll have to believe you now,” ad- 
mitted Kingdon. “Did that happen around half 
past eleven, Dud ?” 

“Just about.” 


192 


REX KINGDON 


"You score, Baudie,” Rex said unhesitatingly. 
"That lifts the shadow of suspicion from Mr. 
Michaud. It’s time we were going home, Red,” 
he went on, glancing at Phillips. "Which one 
of these racing cruisers are you going to let us 
have?” 

It took some time to decide on the canoe, to 
make arrangements for the trip up the lake the 
following day, and to get through with the good- 
bys. But at last the two craft shot out from 
the shore on which the late hosts clustered, hurl- 
ing pleasantries at their departing guests. They 
were so diverted by their occupation that not one 
of them observed the tall figure of Bruce Brig- 
ham standing at the entrance of his tent staring 
after Rex Kingdon. He, out of all the crowd, 
was still dwelling on what might have happened, 
and he seemed for the first time to see himself 
judged by the contemptible deed he had per- 
formed. The method he had pursued to wreak 
vengeance had been nothing short of dastardly. 
He had played the coward and the sneak — he, 
who had always prided himself upon his bravery 1 

What would the fellows say when they knew ? 
Brigham had a sudden vivid mental picture of 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 193 

Phillips’ face, scathing, scornful, utterly con- 
temptuous. He admired the older fellow, and 
had sought to stand well in his estimation. With 
a catch in his throat that was almost a sob, Bruce 
stepped back into the tent and dropped the flap. 


194 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE MAN IN THE THICKET. 

“Speaking of solid ivory domes, this bunch is 
well supplied with them!” ejaculated Kingdon, 
pausing before the open door of the cabin. 

“What’s troubling your highness now?” in- 
quired Starbuck. “I thought Nip was carrying 
around the only bone top-piece in the crowd.” 

“Reckon me in with Nip and the rest of you, 
please,” invited Rex. “Look at the way we chase 
off for the day and leave a bunch of expensive 
rods, two shotguns and three rifles, to say noth- 
ing of a nice collection of odds and ends, scat- 
tered around invitingly for anybody who may 
come along. The portal of our palatial shanty 
hasn’t a lock, I know; but we even don’t make 
use of the latch. Everything wide open ” 

He paused, an odd wrinkle dodging into his 
forehead. 

Nipper Ware whistled softly. “But we didn’t 
leave it open,” he protested. “I was the last one 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


195 


out, and I remember, sure as anything, that I 
took pains to shut the door.” 

“Quite so, little one ; don’t get heated,” soothed 
Rex. “I remember it now, myself. I looked back 
and saw you shut it tight. Wonder how it hap- 
pens to be open now ?” 

“Wind, probably,” yawned Wrenshall. “I 
guess the old latch isn’t much use.” He entered 
and took his trout rod from the rack. “It’s fool- 
ish bothering about locks and things when there 
isn’t anybody in a hundred miles to break in. No 
tramps in these woods, old man.” 

In spite of Dick’s rather patronizing tone, 
Kingdon failed to come back at him; noticing 
which, Starbuck was surprised, though he made 
no comment. He saw that his chum was fussing 
with the door latch, and then his attention was 
distracted by the departure of Wrenshall and 
Scott to fish. When he looked round again, Rex 
was not in sight. 

“Out at ze back,” informed Lebaude in answer 
to Kent’s question. “I go after ze blue heron,” 
he announced, picking up his rifle. “Weesh me 
ze luck.” 

Soon after Baudie departed along the shore, 
hearing Kingdon calling him, Starbuck hurried 


196 


REX KINGDON 


out and saw Rex just emerging from a thicket, 
his face troubled and grim. 

“I knew it wasn’t the wind that blew, the door 
open,” said the blond chap. ‘‘Take a look at what 
I found.” 

Turning back, he parted the bushes and pointed 
at the ground. It was a low spot which the over- 
flow from a tiny spring kept constantly soft. 
Bending over, Starbuck clearly saw the prints 
of moccasined feet. He straightened swiftly and 
looked at Kingdon. 

“You mean somebody has been here while we 
were away?” he said doubtfully. 

“And that somebody was our dear friend 
Michaud. The latch of the door holds perfectly. 
Somebody went into the cabin. With that idea 
in my noodle, I snooped around looking for signs. 
The bushes right here showed me that a deer 
or a man or something had gone through them 
since this morning. It wasn’t a deer.” 

“I should say not! But do you know it was 
Michaud, or are you making a guess?” 

“Guess — nix ! Look at the prints. Don’t they 
give the fellow away?” 

“Not to my dull blinkers. Maybe your piercing 
orbs ” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


197 


“Don’t you see that the left foot toes in?” 

“So it does ; but, never having seen the gent in 
question, how do you know he has that graceful 
little habit when he locomotes ?” 

Kingdon took his chum by the arm and led 
him back to the front of the cabin. 

“Hopeless case, yours,” he sighed. “You’ll 
never make even a Doctor Watson. You remem- 
ber seeing the tracks where he stood under the 
oak the day we thought he shot at us ?” 

“Uh-huh. But he’d pounded the ground flat 
and hard.” 

“Not quite. There were prints around the 
edges, and they all toed in with the left foot. 
Wonder what he’s snooping round here for. We 
ought to have a lock for the door, old man. Next 
time he might not be so considerate.” Then he 
called loudly: “Nip, you scoundrel, peel and get 
into the aqua pura. Don’t nurse the notion that 
you’re going to dodge that swimming lesson.” 

With a nervous giggle at being so accurately 
read, Ware undressed and got into his trunks. 
Rex followed the youngster’s example. Having 
put his pupil through his paces, and shown him 
a new stroke, Kingdon retired to the bank to 
dress. 


198 


REX KINGDON 


“Go out further,” he urged, keeping an eye on 
Ware. “There’s not enough water where you 
are to float a cat.” 

Nipper grinned and propelled himself a few 
feet from shore. “I’m afraid I might step into a 
hole,” he explained. 

“What if you did?” scoffed Kingdon. 
“Couldn’t you swim across.it? You’re getting to 
be a regular duck when I’m with you. I didn’t 
have to hold your chin up much of any to-day.” 

“I know,” mumbled Nipper; “but I can’t seem 
to do anything alone. I don’t believe I’ll ever 


“Tell it to Sweeney!” interrupted Rex impa- 
tiently. “I’ve heard enough of that. You’re 
going to work up some confidence if I have to 
stick to you all summer.” Picking up a good- 
sized stone, he assumed a threatening pose. 
“Beat it out there where it’s over your knees or 
I’ll open fire on you.” 

With a nervous laugh, Ware was starting to 
obey when, to his relief, he perceived an ap- 
proaching diversion. It was a canoe containing 
“Pop” Winkler, his ill-tempered young helper, 
Jed, and a wide-shouldered, tawny-haired stran- 
ger. Gliding silently round the rocky point, it 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


199 


came within Kingdon’s line of vision and brought 
to his face a sudden flash of apprehension, which, 
however, was quickly dispelled by an expression 
of evident pleasure. 

“Come right in,” Rex invited as the canoe 
touched the smooth beach. “Don’t stop to knock. 
How’s Little Sunshine to-day ? I presume you’ve 
called to shower us with the radiance of your 
beaming countenance.” He smiled cheerfully 
upon the sour-faced Jed, who scowled in return. 

“You go to grass!” growled the backwoods- 
man who, despite his size and bulk, looked as if 
he might be still in his teens. “I ain’t goin’ to 
take no more o’ your fresh guff.” 

“I’d offer you a chair,” returned Kingdon with 
apparent seriousness as Jed stepped out of the 
canoe, “only we’re having all our furniture new- 
ly upholstered and varnished.” 

“I s’pose you think that’s funny,” sneered Jed, 
his thick lips curling. 

Rex lifted his eyebrows with an odd, whim- 
sical quirk, and gazed blandly at the hulking 
youth. “Not half so funny as some of the things 
that come to me without being invited. For in- 
stance I beg pardon, Mr. Winkler — didn’t 

quite catch that.” 


200 


REX KINGDON 


“I asked if you’d seen anything of Michaud 
since we were down last,” the storekeeper re- 
peated. “I got word he was still ’round these 
parts, so I brought the sheriff along, in hopes 
there’d be something doing. You ain’t seen 
him?” 

Kingdon seemed to hesitate before he an- 
swered: “Not recently. We spent night before 
last at a camp across the lake. So he might have 
been prowling around up here without our know- 
ing it. Two days ago we saw a man down along 
the shore, but he was too far away to be recog- 
nized without a glass.” 

“Uh-huh!” grunted the sheriff, whose name 
was Holloway. “That was him, most likely. 
Where was he when you spotted him ?” 

“There’s a crooked oak near the edge of the 
water about half a mile below here, and he was 
standing underneath that,” replied Rex promptly. 

But when they continued to ply him with ques- 
tions he cleverly avoided telling many things 
without, however, making a single direct mis- 
statement. Presently Jed got back into the canoe, 
and they pushed off, the young backwoodsman 
attempting a crude witticism that Rex promptly 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


201 


turned against him to the amusement of Win- 
kler and the sheriff. 

Wrenshall, Scotty and Lebaude were away 
from camp, but the arrival of the trio from 
Tobique had drawn Starbuck forth from the 
cabin. When the departing canoe had disap- 
peared, Kent stood watching Kingdon in silence, 
an expression almost of anxiety on his face. Nip- 
per Ware, however, was full to the brim with 
bewilderment, and the strangers were barely out 
of sight when his emotions bubbled over. 

“See here,” he spluttered, “what made you 
twist and turn and duck to keep from telling them 
lots of things that might have been interesting 
to them? I’ll be jounced if I know what 
you’re ” 

“If you start worrying about the things you 
don’t know, it’s you for the dippy house, Nip,” 
interrupted Rex. “Don’t force us to put you 
away any sooner than we have to, and keep in 
mind the sweet truth that the less you’re wise to, 
the less you’ll have to fuss about. See here a 
minute, Kent.” 

He moved toward the cabin, Starbuck beside 
him. When they were out of Nipper’s hearing, 
Rex spoke guardedly. 


202 


REX KINGDON 


“I’d like to warn him,” he said earnestly. 

“Michaud, you mean?” questioned Starbuck. 
“Well, then, there isn’t much time to waste. If 
you want to stay here, I think I could find my 
way to that shack of his.” 

“I’m not so old and rheumatic as all that. 
Baudie would be the best one to do it. Where’d 
he go?” 

“Down along the shore after that big blue 
heron he’s been trying to bag. I’ll give him the 
yell.” 

Several times the shrill, distinctive call vi- 
brated through the still woods, but without an 
answer to show that it had been heard. Finally 
Rex grew impatient. 

“Won’t wait for him,” he told Starbuck. 
“We’d better chase over ourselves. Hi, Nip! 
If Phillips shows up, tell him we’ll be back before 
long, and have him stay. If that doesn’t detain 
him, throw him down and sit on him. That 
would be an easy job for you.” 

Kingdon and Starbuck turned south at once, 
but they had not proceeded far through the woods 
when both were surprised to see Lebaude hurry- 
ing toward them. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


203 


“I hear ze call,” said the Canadian boy as he 
came up. “I come ” 

“Why the deuce didn’t you answer it?” broke 
in Starbuck. 

“I watch ze men from Tobique an’ forget to 
hollaire back,” hastily explained the Canadian. 
“What they do here? Are they again after 
Michaud?” 

Rex nodded. “You’re wise. I’m blowed if I 
believe the man stole that kale, after all, Baudie. 
If he’s innocent, he ought to be warned. If we 

only knew where we’d be likely to find him ” 

He paused suggestively, and Lebaude, his face 
beaming, took him up instantly. 

“I know — that ees, I think I could fin’ him. I 
should go at once — yes?” 

Rex made no answer. He was staring intently 
at a thicket a short distance from the water’s 
edge, and suddenly his voice rang out sharply : 

“Wait— Michaud ! Come back !” 

In the silence that followed, the boys heard 
a faint rustling in the thicket; it ceased abruptly. 
After a moment the rustling began again and 
grew more distinct. Then a bearded man, bear- 
ing a rifle, stepped forth and halted, regarding 
the boys with mingled doubt and boldness. 


204 


REX KINGDON 


It was rather shadowy under the trees, but 
Rex could see that the man was of medium 
height, well built and muscular, his long dark 
hair falling in a matted mass upon his shoulders. 
Presently Lebaude drew his breath with a queer, 
sudden catch, and stepped swiftly forward, star- 
ing up into the man’s face, his own slowly pal- 
ling under the stress of some gripping emotion. 
'A low cry burst from his lips : 

“Mon Dieu! You are not Jean Michaud.” 

Leaping forward like a panther, he grasped 
the stranger’s shirt and began to shake him with 
all his strength. “Who are you?” he shouted 
savagely. “Who are you? What do you do 
with my father?” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


205 


CHAPTER XXII. 
the; masquerader. 

Bewildered, Rex and Kent stared dazedly at 
the strange scene. “Not Michaud?” the former 
exclaimed at length. “Bring me my smelling 
salts! What the deuce do you mean, Baudie?” 

“He’s right,” admitted the stranger in a rather 
pleasant voice which held a touch of troubled 
embarrassment. “I’m not Michaud.” Gently he 
broke Lebaude’s grasp on his shirt. “Take it 
easy, my boy. Your father and I were the best of 
friends.” 

The color ebbed suddenly from the Canadian 
lad’s face. “Were!” he echoed sharply. “It 

sound — you mean — that he — is no longer ” 

Apparently he found it impossible to finish. 

For a moment it seemed as if the stranger 
meant to evade the question, but after a brief 
hesitation, he placed one hand on Baudie’s shoul- 
der and spoke feelingly : 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it to you 
like that. I guess living alone so long has clogged 


206 


REX KINGDON 


my thinking gear. It happened last October. 
We’d been living together for two months when 
I came back one night to find that he had acci- 
dentally shot himself. He didn’t live ten min- 
utes after I showed up.” 

“Shot!” muttered Baudie in a heartbroken 
voice. Suddenly his head went up and he glared 
at the man with blazing eyes. “Shot! How I 
know his own gun do eet? How I know eet was 
as you say? You say you live with him. You 
live in his hut ever since — yes? You take his 
name — likely all else he got. How do I know 
eet was not you who ” 

“Steer off!” interposed the stranger sharply. 
“I’m not the sort to murder a pal in cold blood. 
That’s what we were — pals. He found me when 
I was lost in the woods and pretty near starved 
to death. He took me in and fed and sheltered 
me. After I was all right, he let me stay with 
him. I think he even liked me. I know I liked 
him, for he was one of the whitest chaps I ever 
saw. He had a reputation for crookedness and 
underhand doings, and perhaps his respect for 
the game laws wasn’t worth mentioning; but he 
was loyal to the core — a man to swear by. You 
wouldn’t even think what you just said, son, if 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


207 


you knew how lonesome I’ve been all these 
months.” 

The boy flushed, but, though he calmed down 
considerably, did not at once relinquish his po- 
sition. “I have the right to doubt,” he persisted. 
“You are a stranger to me. You have take my 
father’s name an’ his belongings. Why is that? 
Why in all this time am I not inform’ of this so 
great grief that have come for me?” 

He blinked his eyes rapidly several times, but 
otherwise he kept a hold upon himself which 
commanded the respect of his two friends, who 
knew him to be intensely emotional. 

“I never sent word because I hadn’t the least 
idea where to send it,” the stranger explained 
readily. “I knew Michaud had a son, but he 
never told me any more than that, you see. When 
I found him that night he was too far gone to 
even speak, and it was only after his death that 
I discovered his real name. He left considerable 
money which I’ve been keeping until I could make 
inquiries. When I came back to the house that 
day and found your note, I realized right away 
what my duty was. Since then I’ve been doing 
my best to get hold of you alone.” 

“Oh !” exclaimed Rex in sudden enlightenment. 


208 


REX KINGDON 


“That’s why you were fiddling around the other 
day down by the crooked oak.” 

“I’d found out which of you was Lebaude, and 
I was watching to see if he’d start out alone. 
When that rifle was fired across the narrows I 
decided to beat it. I don’t want to attract any 
more attention than I have to just now.” 

“Because of that robbery, I suppose,” said 
Kingdon. 

The man whirled on him. “What do you know 
about that?” he demanded harshly, a thrill of 
nervous apprehension in his voice. 

“Only what Winkler told us,” returned Rex. 
“He’s been over twice, and he brought the sheriff 
with him to-day. That’s what we started out 
to tell you.” 

The stranger drew a deep breath. “So that’s 
what’s up.” Instinctively he glanced toward the 
water, but they were too far back amid the trees 
either to see or be seen. “I’m much obliged to 
you, boys, I’m sure. It was kind of you. Of 
course I didn’t rob his old till, or whatever it 
was; but give a dog a bad name and ” 

“But the bad name isn’t your own,” cut in 
Kingdon. “You’re passing for Jean Michaud. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 209 

Winkler and everybody else think that’s who you 
are.” 

A dull flush crept into the man’s face, and 
for a moment he stared at Rex with odd intent- 
ness. 

“I may as well tell you the truth,” he said at 
length. “I took that name and identity because 
it was safer than my own. Michaud had worked 
up a reputation which made people afraid of him. 
He was supposed to be a poacher, a smuggler, 
and an all-round dangerous character. They 
tell the story of those two game wardens going 
into the woods after him and never showing up 
again. Everybody thinks Jean did away with 
them, but of course he didn’t. One of them 
broke his leg in the wilderness, and starved. Jean 
found his body in the spring and buried it. He 
never even saw the other. Except for shooting 
a buck now and then for food, he never did a 
lawless thing. He was a sad and lonely man, 
a little queer in the head, perhaps. He came up 
here after his wife died, didn’t he?” he ques- 
tioned, glancing at Lebaude. 

The latter nodded. “He grieve heemself seeck. 
He cannot bear to see people. He want the soli- 
tude. The doctor say hees brain go leetle bit 


210 


REX KINGDON 


wrong. I try to stop heem, but he mus’ go to 
the woods. That was seex year ’go. I see heem 
four time since then, an’ now he ees gone for 
always.” 

His lips quivered and his eyes filled with tears, 
hut still he did not break down. “If only I have 
not been shame of him eet would not hurt so 
had. I lie ’bout the peecture because I was shame 
for you to know my father live in a wretched 
hut, a common trapper of skins. I theenk you 
laugh ” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Baudie!” blurted Rex 
with a curtness which hid his real feelings. “You 
can’t know us very well if you think we’re that 
sort.” He turned again to the stranger. “And 
so, having got everybody jolly well scared of him, 
Michaud was left to live his life in peace, I sup- 
pose ?” 

The man nodded. “Few people came anywhere 
near this part of the lake if they could help it.” 

“It didn’t need much disguising, then, to fix 
you up so you could take his place ?” 

“None at all. We were about the same height, 
build and complexion. He was older than I, 
but when you get a thatch like this and a bunch 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 211 

of whiskers sprouting all over the place age don’t 
cut much figure.” 

“At that,” mused Rex, “I don’t suppose he 
was really so much older. You must be thirty- 
five or eight, aren’t you?” 

The stranger laughed bitterly. “Is it as bad 
as that? I knew this life was wearing me out, 

but I didn’t think Oh, never mind! But 

you’re away off, son; even if I do look like a 
has-been I was only twenty-four last March.” 

“I was making a bid to get your real age. I 
thought it was about that,” chuckled Rex. 
“You’ll look more like it when you’ve shaved. 
You’re Dan Markham, aren’t you?” 

If the boy had suddenly thrown a deadly bomb, 
the surprise could scarcely have been greater. 
The man’s jaw sagged and he crouched a little, 
gripping and half lifting the rifle. He tried to 
speak, but though his lips moved, it was some 
time before he huskily stammered : 

“How did you ” 

“Scotty told us about his cousin who had given 
the detectives the slip and disappeared into these 
woods. When you told about taking Michaud’s 
name and reputation because it was safer than 


212 


REX KINGDON 


your own, I thought of Scotty’s yarn and won- 
dered if you weren’t the lost cousin.” 

“Scotty!” exclaimed the man in astonishment. 
“Jimmy? And I never knew the kid was here! 
While I was trying to pick out Lebaude, I thought 
one of the boys looked familiar, but I never ex- 
pected ” 

He broke off abruptly with a slight cough, and 
his lids dropped to hide the eager, almost yearn- 
ing, light which had leaped into his eyes. When 
he looked up again his face was composed and 
pale. 

“Well, now you’ve found out, what do you 
think you’re going to do about it?” he asked 
curtly. 

“Do?” echoed Rex in a slightly puzzled tone. 

For an instant he stared questioningly at 
Markham before a realization of the truth flashed 
over him: the man did not know that his name 
was cleared and that he had nothing to dread 
because of the crime with which he was origi- 
nally accused. 

A sudden expression of satisfaction filled 
Kingdon’s face as he thought of what the news 
would mean to the haggard, uncouth chap before 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


213 


him. When he spoke, he could hardly keep his 
voice from trembling with excitement. 

“Do?” he repeated. “Well, I’d advise you to 
get a shave and haircut before you start back 
for Portland. The real thief confessed two 
months ago.” 

Markham could not believe it, and his eyes 
glittered angrily. “Maybe that’s your idea of 
humor,” he growled, “but ” 

“ ’Tis ever thus!” sighed Rex, rolling his eyes 
upward. “I’m always misjudged. When I en- 
deavor to be funny, people don’t get me, and when 
I’m serious, they laugh. I’m serious now. The 
real robber confessed. Scotty says it was all in 
the papers. Nobody’s got a thing against you — 
except Pop Winkler. Cutting him out, you can 
show up anywhere you choose any time you like, 
and tell the whole world to go chase itself round 
the block.” 

At last the man understood, and he turned 
away his head to hide his emotions. When he 
looked back again, there were joy and thanks- 
giving in his eyes, a change quite transforming 
him. In a husky voice he asked for Scott, and 
being informed that he was off fishing with 
Wrenshall, speculated as to the time they would 


■214 


REX KINGDON 


return. Having expressed a desire to accom- 
pany the boys to their camp, Markham had 
started in that direction when he suddenly re- 
membered Winkler’s party. 

“I guess I’d better not chance it,” he said, 
stopping short. “They might come round there 
on their way back and find me.” 

“What if they do?” protested Rex. “You’re 
innocent, aren’t you?” 

“As innocent as you are, but they’ve got a 
fair case against me as far as circumstantial evi- 
dence goes, and I’ve had too much of that sort 
of thing already to take a chance.” 

“But they can’t prove something that isn’t 
so,” persisted Kingdon, forgetting for a moment 
Markham’s own unfortunate experience in that 
line. 

“Oh, can’t they?” retorted the man bitterly. 
“That’s all you know about it, my boy. If I 
hadn’t given those sleuths the slip, they’d had me 
down at Thomaston doing time for another fel- 
low’s crooked work. I was in Tobique the night 
Winkler’s store was robbed. I’d been up north. 
Coming home, I struck Tobique about eleven and 
crawled into a barn and slept till daylight. I 
was seen and recognized coming out. There 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 215 

you’ve got your circumstantial case, and it’s one 
I propose to duck. Back in Portland under my 
own name, I can laugh at it; but up here, with 
a lot of these ignorant, prejudiced backwoodsmen 
against me, I wouldn’t have a show. I’ll keep 
out of the way until these fellows have gone back 
to the village. Then I can come out and have a 
word with Jim before hiking south. If you see 
them ” 

“Drop that gun and put up your hands, 
Michaud !” snapped a sharp voice. “No monkey 
business, for I’ve got you covered.” 

Rex spun round instantly, as did the others, 
and four pairs of startled eyes stared in silent 
dismay upon the figures of the sheriff, Pop Win- 
kler and the grinning Jed, each with a loaded 
weapon held ready for use. 


216 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

REX BECOMES SERIOUS. 

For an instant it seemed that Markham would 
attempt to use his rifle in self-defense. Realiz- 
ing what such an action meant, Rex Kingdon 
swiftly gripped his arm. 

“Don’t be foolish,” warned the boy earnestly. 

“I won’t,” said Markham, dropping the rifle 
and lifting his empty hands. “Much obliged.” 

Jed Browdy guffawed. “Fine bunch, you air, 
takin’ up with a thief ! I knowed you was havin’ 
dealings with him, an’ I tells Winkler so. I says 
you’d be likely to hunt him up the minute we was 
gone, so we sneaks back, and now you’re ketched. 
How do you like it, smarty? The joke’s on you 
this time.” 

The unconcerned smile Rex bent upon the jeer- 
ing man was a work of art, for he really ached 
to punch the fellow’s head. 

“This is just the beginning of the joke,” he 
said coolly. “There’s a last laugh coming to 
someone. Perhaps it won’t be to you.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


217 


“Mebbe it won’t and mebbe it will. Anyhow, 
we’ve nabbed the robber, and it looks to me like 
we’d ketched some accomplices with him.” 

“Cut out that gab, Jed, and take keer o’ Mi- 
chaud’s gun,” ordered the sheriff. “Then you 
kin keep him covered while I put the irons on 
him.” 

Markham gave a start and his face darkened. 
“That’s not necessary,” he protested. “You’ve 
got me, and I’ll come without being handcuffed. 
At the same time I protest ” 

He broke off abruptly, biting his lips. In his 
impulsive resentment he had failed to make the 
slightest attempt to disguise his voice — and Jean 
Michaud had always spoken with an accent. 
Strangely enough, no one seemed to notice the 
slip, and Markham suddenly remembered that 
there was good reason to believe that not one of 
these men had ever exchanged words with the 
recluse. Both from economy and because he 
wished to have no dealings with people living 
near him, Michaud had always bought his few 
scant supplies across the border. He had kept 
away from Tobique, the inhabitants of which 
must have gained their conception of the man 
from a few fleeting glimpses of him obtained at a 


218 


REX KINGDON 


distance, and from the accounts of trappers or 
woodsmen who had met him at closer quarters. 

“That’s all right,” retorted the sheriff stub- 
bornly. “I don’t take nobody’s word in a case 
like this. You’re a dangerous character, and I 
ain’t runnin’ no chances.” 

Browdy secured Markham’s rifle and watched 
with great satisfaction the sheriff snap the hand- 
cuffs on the wrists of the pale and unresisting 
man. When this was done, the young back- 
woodsman resumed his jeering : 

“I guess you ain’t so much, old geezer. You’ll 
find it ain’t safe to break into people’s tills around 
these parts, you will. They’ll give you a haircut 
and a shave down to Thomaston. You want 
to look out you don’t catch cold ” 

“That natural gas well is leaking again,” said 
Rex. “If it isn’t plugged it’ll asphyxiate us all.” 

As the boy had hoped, the remark roused the 
resentment of the loud-mouthed Browdy, who 
snarled and spluttered until called down by both 
Winkler and the sheriff. Under cover of this, 
Rex whispered to Markham : 

“If you have to talk don’t fake Michaud’s ac- 
cent, and don’t say anything more than you can 
help. I’ve got an idea that may work out.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


219 


The prisoner’s face did not lighten, for he 
felt that he was in an extremely ticklish position, 
and to hope for anything from the efforts of a 
boy seemed absurd. While he appreciated King- 
don’s interest in his plight, the lad’s evident be- 
lief in his own ability struck Markham as a bit 
conceited. 

Having silenced Jed, Halloway ordered the 
return to their canoes. The boys trailed along 
behind and were on hand to witness the annoy- 
ance of the sheriff on realizing he had four peo- 
ple to squeeze into a canoe which could comfort- 
ably hold but three. It was then that Rex began 
to carry his plan into execution. 

“Two of us are going up along, and we can 
give Mr. Winkler a seat in our canoe if he wants 
it,” he stated without too much cordiality. 

Winkler looked a trifle surprised, but accepted 
the offer. The boys piloted their passenger back 
to the cabin and down to the shore where the 
single remaining canoe was drawn up. Here 
Nipper, bursting with curiosity as to what was 
happening, and sore because he had been obliged 
to remain on the point, met them with demands 
for information. 

“Baudie’ll tell you,” said Rex as he got the 


220 


REX KINGDON 


canoe ready. “Kent and I are going up the lake. 
No signs of Phillips, hey? That’s odd. Well, 
when he shows up tell him we had to take Mr. 
Winkler to Tobique. Very likely Red’ll come 
alone after us.” 

The old man stepped spryly into the canoe, 
which shot out into the lake, propelled by King- 
don’s paddle, Kent being unable to give a hand. 
They were a little ahead of the others, who had 
to pull round the point, and, instead of waiting 
for them to come up, the young camper set a 
pace that added to the lead. Rex kept a keen 
lookout for Scotty and Wrenshall, who had taken 
the other canoe and gone off fishing directly after 
breakfast. Failing to see anything of them by 
the time they had proceeded two miles or more 
up the lake, he gave up any idea of counting on 
Markham’s cousin. Then he turned his attention 
to their passenger. 

“Would you mind putting us wise about the 
robbery, Mr. Winkler?” he asked. “You didn’t 
give us many details the other day, and we’re 
both rather more interested now than we were 
then.” 

His pleasant manner and infectious smile ap- 
pealed to the storekeeper. Winkler was a man 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


221 


who dealt more or less with poachers, and he was 
not especially prejudiced against them because 
they broke the game laws. Had he not believed 
the supposed Michaud had entered his place of 
business and robbed him, the woodsman might 
have killed game out of season year after year 
without ever rousing old Pop to murmur over his 
methods. Robbery was a different matter, how- 
ever, and, backed by public sentiment, Winkler 
had done his best to run the culprit down. 

“Why, sure, sonny,” he agreed in answer to 
Rex. “What is it you want to know ?” 

“How much money was stolen?” 

“One hundred and eight dollars and thirty-two 
cents !” 

The old man’s thin lips straightened suddenly 
over his almost toothless gums, and his eyes 
snapped. Rex was not left in doubt as to where 
lay the sting of the affair. The annoyance of 
being robbed meant nothing to Pop Winkler com- 
pared to the loss of his money. If he could get 
that back, the chances were ten to one against 
his caring much what became of the thief. 

“That was quite a bunch to lose!” said King- 
don sympathetically. “You don’t pull in that 
much every day, do you?” 


222 


REX KINGDON 


“Hardly. It come mostly from a lot o’ sports 
over on the Minnisink, an’ the supe o’ the lum- 
ber company layin’ in some supplies. I never 
thought of hiding it away. We ain’t never had 
no thievin’ before.” 

“Was it taken from the till?” inquired Rex. 

“Till? No!” blurted Winkler, disturbed by 
another recollection. “It was in the cash regis- 
ter drawer, and the critter broke the lock all to 
smash getting it open. That means another eight 
or ten dollars to have it fixed.” 

“That is tough luck! Did he break anything 
getting into the store?” 

“Nope. Forced the winder catch with a knife, 
an’ just raised her up.” 

Rex glanced over his shoulder at the sheriff’s 
canoe. “What makes you suspect him?” he in- 
terrogated, with a backward jerk of his head. 
“Did he leave a clue or anything?” 

“Wally Johnson seen him sneakin’ out o’ the 
back o’ my place just come daybreak, and I guess 
that’s clue enough to settle his hash.” 

“Looks a bit bad,” Rex admitted. “Who’s 
Wally Johnson?” 

“A trapper, gum digger and logger.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 223 

“Was he positive it was Michaud. Couldn’t he 
have been mistaken in the dim light?” 

Winkler laughed. “With them whiskers an’ 
all that bush o’ hair ? I guess not ! Besides, he’s 
one o’ the few that’s met the feller face to face 
in the woods an’ talked with him. Michaud 
keeps almighty close, you know. For all he’s 
lived around so long, I ain’t never before been 
as nigh him as I was to-day.” 

Kingdon nodded and was silent for a moment 
or two. 

“Is this Johnson where you could easily get 
hold of him?” he asked after a little thought. 

“He is to-day. I left him in charge o’ the 
store. Why?” 

“I wondered whether he’d be so sure about the 
identification in broad daylight,” returned the 
boy. “You see, I’ve got a notion the fellow you’ve 
grabbed isn’t the one who broke into your cash 
register, and I’m working my bean to figure out 
how to prove I’m right.” 

“Don’t waste your time, son,” advised Wink- 
ler. “Michaud’s the thief, all right. Look at his 
record. There’s no goin’ ag’in’ that. I ’low when 
Holloway goes through him, he’ll find the money 


224 


REX KINGDON 


in his clothes. I fergot to tell him to search right 
off.” 

“Still,” persisted Rex, “it wouldn’t do any hurt 
to have Johnson give the prisoner the once over — 
that is, inspect him,” he explained, catching a 
puzzled look on the storekeeper’s face. 

“Nary a bit,” agreed the old man. “When it 
comes to that, anybody’d have a hard job stoppin’ 
him. Bringing home a thief in bracelets ain’t so 
common yet in Tobique that it’s lost interest. 
Soon’s they hear what’s happened, you’ll see a 
tidy little crowd jammin’ inter my store, an’ 
Wally ’ll be there a-waitin’.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


225 


CHAPTER XXIV. 
kingdon’s CLEVERNESS. 

A very fair crowd — for Tobique — witnessed 
their landing and accompanied them along the 
single straggling street toward the general store. 
There must have been at least a dozen curious 
citizens in the throng that pressed about, all eager 
to gaze their fill upon the mysterious and danger- 
ous “Black Michaud;” but Wally Johnson was 
not among them. 

“He’s waitin’ on old Ezra Blund, an’ couldn’t 
break loose,” explained someone in answer to 
Winkler’s question. 

Walking close behind the old man, Rex King- 
don was struggling against something like a rush 
of stage fright. One moment saw him eager for 
the appearance of Johnson and anxious for the 
little drama to proceed; at the next he would 
have given much to put it off until he could plan 
something better. 

The worst of it was the weakness of his plan. 
It really wasn’t a plan at all; merely a single 


226 


REX KINGDON 


move, with nothing definite to back it up. It was 
like holding the ace of trumps without another 
decent card. If the surprise he hoped to spring 
through mistaken identity should prove to be no 
surprise at all — what then? In the back of his 
brain was a vague desire to look around, to seek 
out clues, to utilize an uncommonly keen sense of 
observation and an eye for detail. Perhaps there 
were some bits of evidence that might prove of 
determining value. 

Kingdon’s heart was not light as he and Kent 
climbed the rickety porch in the wake of the tri- 
umphal procession and entered the store. Almost 
immediately however a revulsion of feeling sent 
his head up, his chest out, and brought a glint 
■of combat to his eyes. He was no quitter; he 
would not throw up the sponge before a single 
blow was given! Suddenly he recalled what an 
uncle of his, for years the head of a New York 
detective agency, had once told him: “If I don’t 
have any real evidence, I bluff along until some 
comes my way — and nine times out of ten it 
comes.” The same relative had likewise once 
remarked in the boy’s hearing that, in spite of 
the fact that a person is always supposed innocent 
until proved guilty, one of the cardinal rules of 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


227 


their profession was, when all clues failed, to 
suspect the individual who had the greatest in- 
centive and the most frequent opportunities for 
committing a crime. 

“I can pull a bluff as well as the next fellow,” 
muttered the boy under his breath, “and here’s 
where I do the pull.” 

Directly his whole attention was taken up by a 
tall, lean, slim-loined man of thirty odd, who had 
come hurriedly from the back of the store with 
a lot of miscellaneous tinware in his arms and a 
fussy old fellow with a stick trotting at his heels. 
The tall man dropped the tinware clattering on 
the counter and met the incoming party with a 
look of eager interest. 

“I see you got him,” he commented drawlingly. 

“I reckon we hev,” agreed Winkler. “This is 
the feller you spotted, ain’t it, Wally?” 

“Yep, that’s Michaud, all right. I’d know him. 
anywhere.” 

“Don’t you mean you’d know the whiskers?” 
abruptly inquired Rex Kingdon, stepping boldly 
to Markham’s side. “Seems to me this case is 
getting to be one of the State against a bunch 
of whiskers. Suppose you look again, Mr. John- 
son — and look hard.” 


■228 


REX KINGDON 


Markham’s back had been toward the light, 
but as he spoke Rex turned him toward a win- 
dow with dramatic suddenness. Holloway looked 
indignant and made a movement to interfere, 
but was checked, however, by old Winkler. “Let 
the boy alone,” said the storekeeper. “He can’t 
do no hurt.” 

As for Johnson, he stepped slowly forward, his 
eyes fixed in a puzzled manner upon the prisoner. 
For what seemed almost a full minute he stood 
staring intently, a strange transformation coming 
gradually over his face. His eyes widened, his 
jaw dropped, he lifted one hand and scratched 
Lis chin. At last he spoke in the bewildered un- 
dertone of one merely thinking aloud : 

“Well, I’ll be swizzled! You’re not ” 

“Quite right, I’m not!” said Dan Markham, 
evidently unable longer to contain himself. “I’m 
glad somebody’s in his right senses.” He turned 
abruptly on Sheriff Holloway. “Perhaps you’ll 
he kind enough to take off these handcuffs now. 
They’re hurting my wrists, and you can’t be 
afraid of my getting away with this bunch 
around.” 

Holloway paid no attention to the plea. Be- 
wildered and angry, he stared at Johnson. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 229 

“What in time do you mean, Wally?” he de- 
manded. “One minute you say this fellow’s Mi- 
chaud, an’ the next you say he ain’t. You ain’t 
been drinkin’, have ye?” 

“Not so you’d notice it!” retorted the trapper 
with some heat. “How was I to know there was 
two of em so much alike?” 

“I don’t know it yet,” growled the sheriff. 
“All we’ve got to go by is your say-so. He an- 
swers every description of the Canuck.” 

“Except in his speech,” put in Kingdon mildly. 
“Have you ever heard an ordinary French- 
Canadian talk such excellent United States, Mr. 
Sheriff?” 

Holloway bit his lip and glared at Rex, while 
Winkler raised his eyebrows in comical surprise. 

“By heck!” exclaimed the storekeeper. “The 
boy’s right! I noticed that myself. He talks as 
good as anybody can.” An expression of dis- 
may flashed into his face and he caught the sher- 
iff by the lapel. “Look here, Hank, what if we’ve 

got the wrong pig by the ear? My money 

Say, why don’t you search him now an’ see if he 
ain’t got it on him ?” 

“And while you’re about it,” proposed Rex, 
“why not search everybody present who has had 


230 


REX KINGDON 


an opportunity to steal that money? I don’t 
fancy there are many here who make a prac- 
tice of carrying a hundred odd dollars of their 
own around with them as a regular thing.” 

During the progress of the altercation the boy 
had been cudgeling his brains for that plan of 
action which had to be put into operation swiftly 
or not at all. He had not fancied that the mis- 
take in identity was going to free the prisoner, 
though it must show these backwoodsmen that 
they had jumped too swiftly to their conclusion, 
and that, having been mistaken in the identity of 
their man, they might likewise be mistaken as 
to his guilt. 

It was at the psychological moment of doubt 
and hesitation that Rex meant to put forward the 
suggestion that they go over the evidence again 
and examine the scene of the robbery for pos- 
sible fresh clues. He had not, thus far, been able 
to fix his suspicion on anyone, but when Winkler 
was making the plea for an instant search of the 
prisoner, Rex happened to be looking at Jed 
Browdy, and something in that youth’s heavy, 
hangdog face brought a sudden thoughtful 
wrinkle between Kingdon’s eyes. 

It wasn’t much — merely a slight lowering of 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


231 


the black brows, and the least possible twitching 
at one corner of the flabby mouth; but it was 
enough to set Rex thinking. A moment later, 
he made the rather absurd suggestion about 
searching everyone present. Watching B rowdy 
furtively, he had his reward. 

The fellow paled suddenly, and a look of alarm 
flashed into his eyes. He pulled himself together 
quickly and sent a queer searching glance at 
Kingdon’s face. Rex did not even meet the man’s 
look, his manner being admirably composed and 
indifferent. Underneath the surface, he felt a 
thrill of satisfaction. 


232 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE AMATEUR DETECTIVE. 

The search of Markham’s person revealed in 
cash a little change, one five dollar gold piece and 
a silver dollar. Pop Winkler was almost in tears. 

“Either he’s hid it somewheres in the woods,” 
he quavered, “or we’ve got the wrong man. 
What air we goin’ to do, Hank? I can’t lose 
all that money! Why don’t you ” 

“You close up and let me run this!” snapped 
the sheriff. He turned on Markham, gripping 
him by one arm. “If you’re not Black Michaud, 
then who are you, and what are you doin’ around 
here? Answer quick, now, with the truth.” 

“Oh, I’ll tell you the truth,” said Dan wearily. 
“My name’s Markham, and I’ve been around 
these parts for nine months or more. As to 
what I’m doing, I’m trying to make an honest 
living, like any decent man.” 

“Huh !” grunted Holloway, his eyes fixed 
searchingly on the prisoner. “Supposin’ that’s 
so an’ you ain’t Michaud, there’s still no reason 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


233 


why you shouldn’t be the feller Johnson see 
sneakin’ out o’ here at daybreak the morning 
the robbery was discovered.” 

He paused questioningly, and turned his eyes 
away from the prisoner long enough to dart a 
triumphant glance at Pop Winkler, who seemed 
overcome with admiration by this unexpected bit 
of reasoning. Markham did not answer at once, 
and Rex imagined what was passing in his mind. 
If he lied convincingly there was a fair chance 
of escaping, for no one here could prove him in 
the wrong. The boy wondered whether he would 
take that chance, and hoped he wouldn’t. By his 
action in this particular strait, Markham would 
prove what sort of a man he was. 

“Well?” questioned Holloway sharply. “I’m 
right, ain’t I ? You might have been that feller?” 

Markham lifted his head and regarded the 
sheriff with fearless defiance. “Yes,” he ad- 
mitted, “I might have been, and I was. I was 
the person Johnson saw, but that doesn’t give any- 
body license to call me a thief. I spent the 
night in Winkler’s barn, and he can prosecute me 
for trespass if he wants to. But it’s nix on this 
breaking and entering business. You’ll have to 
put that on somebody else.” 


234 


REX KINGDON 


“A likely yarn !” sneered Holloway. “None of 
us wasn’t born yesterday. What brought you up 
here at night, if not to steal?” 

“I’d been over the line for supplies, and struck 
here about eleven. The barn door wasn’t locked, 
so I went in and had a sleep on the hay.” 

In the silence that followed this statement, 
Holloway stared at the prisoner, irritated, yet 
wholly skeptical. Winkler looked uncertain. 
The rest of the onlookers gaped curiously. It 
seemed to be the moment for which Rex had 
been waiting, and he suddenly stepped forward 
and addressed Pop Winkler: 

“See here, Mr. Winkler,” he said, “why 
wouldn’t it be a good idea to do a little further 
investigating? With this new knowledge and 
another point of view, perhaps we can get at 
something that has been overlooked ; perhaps the 
case will assume a very different aspect.” 

Holloway sneered and laughed disagreeably. 
“We!” he mocked before the older man could 
speak. “You talk as if you was somebody. 
Where do you come in? You’re only a kid.” 

“If you’ll pardon me for being young, which is 
a misfortune time will correct,” entreated Rex 
unabashed, “it is barely possible that I may be 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 235 

able to render assistance or offer a suggestion 
worth following. An uncle of mine is head of one 
of the big New York detective agencies, and I 
know something about his methods. At least, I 
might give you an imitation of how a real detec- 
tive works.” 

Starbuck, remaining in the background, had 
admired his chum’s nerve all along, and now he 
was compelled to clap his hand over his mouth 
to keep from snickering aloud. “Oh, what a 
gall!” he whispered to himself. “He sure takes 
the blue ribbon. And such a flow of language! 
When it comes to reeling off a string of real 
high-class conversation, that shark has got ’em 
all lashed to the mast.” 

Of course Holloway continued to jeer at the 
presumptuous youngster, but when the sheriff at- 
tempted to brush Rex aside, he was opposed by 
Winkler. 

“Hold on, Hank,” protested the old man. 
“This is my case, ain’t it? It was my money 
they stole, an’ I reckon I got suthin’ to say about 
gittin’ it back.” 

“You’re a fool if you let this young brat butt 
in and bother us.” 

“If bein’ a fool’ll git back my hundred an’ 


236 


REX KINGDON 


eight dollars, I ain’t goin’ to let that stand in the 
way. What is it you want to do, son?” 

“I’d like to go over the place,” explained Rex, 
“and hear how things looked when the robbery 
was discovered. It won’t take long. If I could 
see the cash register first, I’d be much obliged.” 

Perhaps Holloway’s scornful sniff had the ef- 
fect of strengthening old Pop’s decision and in- 
creasing his cordiality toward Kingdon; for, 
without hesitation, he called to Jed and led the 
way to the register which stood in a small par- 
titioned space at one end of the long counter. 

More than half of the loungers followed curi- 
ously, only a few remaining with the disdainful 
sheriff and his still manacled prisoner. Jed 
B rowdy seemed reluctant to obey Winkler’s sum- 
mons, as Rex did not fail to observe. A second 
sharp order was needed to speed his lagging 
feet, and on reaching the little office, he lounged 
sullenly against the partition, covertly following 
Kingdon’s movements. 

The cash register was of a common type, hav- 
ing a single money drawer provided with a lock. 
That it had been locked on the night of the rob- 
bery was apparent at once, for the entire sur- 
face around the keyhole was dented and mashed 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 237 

by the blows of a heavy instrument — possibly 
with the large monkey wrench that lay on the 
desk beside it. 

“Is this just about as you found it, Mr. Wink- 
ler ?” Rex asked presently. 

“It’s so smashed I can’t use it, so I jest left 
it here. We was lookin’ at the wrench again this 
mornin’.” 

“You don’t usually keep the register here, 
do you?” 

“Why, no,” returned Winkler in evident sur- 
prise. “It’s alius out in the store — about half 
way down ; though I don’t know how you guessed 
it. We only bring it in here nights.” 

That which surprised the old man had been 
gleaned by the simplest sort of observation. The 
desk was a slanting one, and the register would 
hardly be placed at the farthest point from where 
the sales were made. Kingdon rapidly asked a 
number of other questions, all of which seemed 
to him so commonplace as to be almost the acme 
of simplicity; but, to his mild wonderment, he 
perceived signs of unmistakable interest on the 
part of his audience. 

He did not realize that, unconsciously, he had 
assumed something of the quick, curt, business- 


238 


REX KINGDON 


like manner of his uncle’s staff of detectives. He 
had forgotten that his hearers were mostly men 
of little education and small experience in the 
ways of the world, to whom such a manner, 
even in a youth, was unusual and impressive in 
its novelty. But he was shrewd enough to see his 
advantage, and more in the spirit of fun than 
anything else, he proceeded to elaborate his char- 
acterization, making the most of every point until 
the performance was a real work of art. 

He was not slighting the object he had in 
mind; he was merely handling it after a boy’s 
less serious fashion. But, having made what he 
regarded as an important discovery, a rush of 
real gravity came over him as different from 
his assumed pompousness as day is from night. 

The discovery concerned the wrench, which 
undoubtedly had been used to break open the 
register. This implement had not come from 
stock, but was Winkler’s own private property, 
kept in a chest under the counter along with a 
fine assortment of other tools. The spot was 
dark, and the chest itself was covered completely 
by a section of oilcloth. To imagine a stranger 
entering the store for the first time on a pitch 
dark night and locating that chest, except by 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


239 


sheer luck, was impossible. To the accustomed 
hand, a tilting of the lid, and a snatching of 
something from the well-ordered contents would 
be second nature. 

Rex almost betrayed himself by a jubilant ex- 
clamation, stifled in time. He did not glance at 
B rowdy, though out of the corner of his eye he 
saw that the fellow was near at hand. Jed must 
be kept in sight on some pretext or other, Rex 
decided, finding himself suddenly tingling with 
excitement and disposed to drop all the burlesque 
and nonsense which had diverted him a few mo- 
ments ago. So far he had no real evidence 
against the fellow he suspected, but he meant to 
find some if it lay within the power of human 
endeavor. 

“Suppose we now take a look at the window 
he got in by,” he said briskly to Pop Winkler. 
“That surely ought to tell us something.” 


240 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

SWIFT WORK. 

The store was long and low and rather dark, 
being lighted from the windows at the front and 
rear. The walls were lined with shelves on which 
were crowded every sort of goods in general de- 
mand by Winkler’s customers. In the middle of 
the rear wall was a door, on either side of which 
a window opened. The window sills were some 
two and a half feet from the floor, and from the 
ground outside the distance was more than twice 
as much. 

It was the one to the right of the door that had 
been forced open, the crude catch having been 
pried off by the insertion of a thin-edged instru- 
ment between the sashes. Through the glass, 
Rex could see the gouges made by the instrument 
in the soft pine. 

The job had evidently been a hurried one ; that 
was all the most careful scrutiny revealed. Dis- 
appointedly, Rex stared at the window until the 
sun pouring through the clear panes dazzled his 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


241 


eyes ; then he went out into the yard behind the 
building to look things over. 

There had been no footprints, Winkler said, 
on account of the drought which had preceded 
the last storm. An empty inverted box, taken 
from a shed nearby, stood under the window. 
Rex stepped quickly up on it and examined the 
window frame closely. Undoubtedly it had been 
forced from the outside. The boy stared at the 
window, his forehead a network of perplexed 
wrinkles; for everything seemed to contradict 
his theory, and unless he soon found something 
to support it, he must go back to face the jeers 
of Holloway and the other backwoodsmen. 
Worse yet, he would not have helped Dan Mark- 
ham. He felt perfectly sure that Jed Browdy 
was the culprit, but without a scrap of real evi- 
dence, his opinion would be worth less than noth- 
ing. 

Reluctant to give up, he continued to stare at 
the window, almost as if some premonition told 
him that the clue was there. The bright sun, 
shining on the glass, cast a dazzling reflection 
into his eyes, but still he did not turn away. At 
last his frown deepened, and he was on the point 
of giving in, when one of the men in the store 


342 


REX KINGDON 


stepped close to the window and looked out at 
him. 

The boy gave a sudden start and seemed to be 
gazing with a fixed stare at the man inside. Then 
he suddenly raised his right hand to a level with 
the window catch, and the fingers closed as if 
holding something ; he stretched out his left palm 
toward a certain pane of glass in the attitude of 
steadying himself. But the man inside was puz- 
zled to see that the outspread hand did not come 
within half an inch of actually touching the win- 
dow. A look of triumph had wiped every emo- 
tion from Kingdon’s face and, as he leaped to 
the ground and moved toward the door, his eyes 
were bright as stars. 

“What's next?” inquired Winkler with some 
impatience. The young investigator’s lack of 
comment had shorn the situation of much of its 
expected zest. “Ain’t you found out anything 
yet?” 

Apparently the boy did not hear the question. 
Rex had paused inside the door, and was looking 
about him like a person greatly interested. 

“How clean everything is !” he remarked in the 
tone of one awakening to an unusual fact. “Do 
you always keep the place as neat as this ?” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


243 


“Not always. We had our half-yearly scrub- 
up about a week ago.” 

“A week? That must have been the day of 
the robbery.” 

“The day before,” corrected Winkler. “Jed 
and Pete Bartow’s kid done the floor, an’ I had 
Canuck Phil’s wife in to wash the winders.” 

“Jed hasn’t been near this window?” Rex 
asked with careless lightness. 

“No, I ain’t!” spoke up Browdy sharply. “I 
don’t wash the winders.” 

“Don’t you?” murmured Rex suavely. “Still, 
I suppose you must have examined it pretty thor- 
oughly the day after the robbery?” 

“What d’you mean, examine?” snapped Jed 
with an uneasy glare at Kingdon. “I looked at 
the catch, same as you’re lookin’ at it, but that’s 
all.” 

“Didn’t go outside and stand up on the box 
and look at it from there ?” 

“Naw!” snarled Browdy with what seemed en- 
tirely disproportionate irritation. “Why should 
I?” 

“Oh, I thought you might. You’re dead sure 
you didn’t? All right; don’t get peevish. I’m 
just asking all the questions I can think of, like 


■244 


REX KINGDON 


a real professional sleuth. Suppose we adjourn 
to the front of the store and let Little Sunshine 
favor us with the story of how he discovered the 
robbery.” 

But “Little Sunshine” suddenly displayed a 
decided disinclination to talk, declaring that the 
whole performance was “durn foolishness,” and 
growling and protesting so continually that only 
through Winkler’s intervention were a few bare 
facts dragged from him. 

According to this statement, he had arrived 
at the store at precisely six o’clock, and on find- 
ing evidences of the robbery, had started off to 
inform Winkler. At the door he realized that 
Pop would not be up for half an hour yet, which 
led him to turn back, interested to find out how 
the thieves had made an entrance. 

It was at this point that Rex, after listening 
with the closest attention, suddenly frowned and 
snapped his fingers, as if annoyed by having for- 
gotten something that had been in his mind. 

“By the way, Mr. Winkler,” he said hastily, 
“do you happen to have any window lights in 
stock?” 

“Lights?” wondered the storekeeper. “What 
size ?” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


245 


“Eight by twelve will do,” was the answer. 

“Yep, got ’em. Jed, jest fetch — how many 
was it you wanted ?” 

“Four.” 

“Fetch four eight by twelve lights, an’ stir 
your stumps.” 

Evidently somewhat puzzled and still uneasy, 
Browdy slouched back to the end of the store 
and bent over a bin below the counter. When 
he returned in the same leisurely fashion, he car- 
ried the glass carefully, his right hand protected 
by a sheet of tough brown paper. 

At a sign from Winkler, he started to lay his 
load down on the counter, but before he could 
do so, Rex stepped back, apparently by accident, 
and jostled his elbow. As the glass began to 
slide, Jed snarled out something more forcible 
than polite, at the same moment grabbing at the 
pane on top with the flat of his left hand just 
in time to prevent a smash. 

Rex was apologetic. “Awful clumsy of me,” 
he drawled as the glass was deposited safely on 
the counter. “You don’t happen to have a knife 
you’d lend me for a minute?” 

Browdy might have refused had not Winkler 
admonished him to fork up in a hurry. With 


246 


REX KINGDON 


grudging reluctance, he produced a knife that, 
for size and stoutness, would certainly have made 
him liable under the Sullivan law for carrying 
concealed weapons. 

“Some toadsticker,” commented Rex admir- 
ingly, as he opened the single six-inch blade. 
“Lucky for the burglar you weren’t around with 
this, eh?” 

B rowdy made no reply. His anxiety was in- 
creasing and, seeing Kingdon walk briskly back 
to the window with the broken catch, he turned 
pale. To his amazement, and likewise the be- 
wilderment of all who watched the boy, Rex pro- 
ceeded deftly to remove one of the panes from 
the sash. 

“Crazy as a Junebug!” commented the sheriff. 
“You’re wastin’ your time, Pop, jest as I said.” 

“It’s my time, ain’t it?” retorted Winkler pet- 
tishly. “You ain’t obleeged to stay, Hank, if you 
got other business.” 

Holloway made no move to depart, and when 
Rex returned, carrying the pane of glass, the 
sheriff pretended a bored indifference; but fur- 
tively he watched the lad as closely as anyone 
else. 

Still holding the glass he had removed from 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 247 

the window, Kingdon took up one of the larger 
pieces from the counter, carrying both into the 
little office, where he was observed to examine 
them carefully against the light. After a few 
moments of inspection he placed the panes on the 
storekeeper’s desk and came back to where Wink- 
ler leaned against the counter, with Jed behind 
him, the latter doing his best to stifle the appre- 
hension that momentarily grew stronger. 

“I hope you’re most done, sonny,” said Wink- 
ler testily, “an’ likewise that you’ve found out 
somethin’ by all this.” 

“Yes, to both questions,” smiled the boy. He 
glanced at Browdy, shaking his head with mock 
seriousness. “To think that Little Sunshine 
could have been led from the paths of righteous- 
ness,” he murmured sadly, “especially after get- 
ting off all those virtuous precepts. I regret to 
tell you, Mr. Winkler, that your amiable Jed is 
the thief. If you will look in the inside pocket 
of his vest, I have a notion you may find most 
of your money there.” 


248 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

HOW IT WAS DONE. 

Eor an instant dumb amazement riveted every 
man in the little group. Even Browdy was mo- 
mentarily paralyzed, but he was the first to re- 
cover. With blazing eyes and a face contorted 
with rage, he let out an inarticulate bellow of 
fury and leaped at the lad who had so fearlessly 
accused him. 

Rex had rather expected such a move, and was 
ready for it. As Browdy rushed wildly, with 
both arms swinging, Kingdon stepped nimbly 
aside, deftly interposing a foot between Jed’s 
sturdy legs; and the charging man went down 
with a terrific crash that fairly shook the build- 
ing. When the prostrate man recovered from 
the shock he found Kingdon seated astride his 
body, from which position no amount of strug- 
gling served to dislodge him. 

“If you want positive proof, Mr. Sheriff,” 
called Rex earnestly, “just give me a hand. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 249 

Somebody hold this fellow’s feet, please, while 
the sheriff searches him. I’m sure the stolen 
money is on his person.” 

The boy realized that Browdy might have hid- 
den it somewhere else, but quick action was what 
he desired, and he was taking a chance. If the 
money should not be found on the man, he was 
confident that he could still convince them of 
Jed’s guilt. 

Two or three of the onlookers roused them- 
selves and assisted in holding the panting and 
snarling young fellow while the sheriff, still 
doubtful, began the search. In a few moments 
he discovered something fastened with a safety 
pin in the inner pocket of Browdy’s vest, and 
this proved to be a carefully done up packet con- 
taining money. Old Pop Winkler fairly danced 
when the packet was opened and the money 
counted, for it amounted to precisely one hun- 
dred and eight dollars. 

“That’s it!” he shouted. “By jing, Jed stole 
it, he did! I never thought o’ him doin’ it.” 

“I hope, Mr. Sheriff,” said Kingdon with an 
amazing air of timidness, “that you will not con- 
sider me presumptuous if I suggest that it would 


250 


REX KINGDON 


be a good plan to transfer the bracelets from 
Markham to the real criminal.” 

“That’s right! That’s the idee!” spluttered 
Winkler. “We’d better apologize to Markham, 
too.” 

Holloway tried to apologize as best he could 
while releasing Markham, and the handcuffs 
were soon transferred to the wrists of the still 
feebly protesting lad. 

Starbuck, who had assisted in holding Browdy, 
gleefully congratulated his chum: “Greatest 
piece of real detective work I ever saw,” he de- 
clared, “but I don’t know how you did it.” 

“Nor me, neither,” confessed Pop Winkler. 
“How’d you know he was the thief and that he 
had the stuff in his vest pocket?” 

“I didn’t,” confessed the boy. “I only knew 
that he had something there that he was mighty 
choice about, because once or twice I caught him 
slyly feeling for it. I took a chance that it was 
the money.” 

“But what did all that monkey business with 
the winder glass mean?” persisted the still puz- 
zled storekeeper. “I ain’t wise to that yet.” 

“That was how I got my proof. He left his 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


251 


trademark on the piece of glass I took out of the 
window. I’ll show you.” 

Stepping quickly into the little office, he brought 
forth the two panes of glass and held up the 
smaller. Craning their necks, the woodsmen saw 
clearly outlined upon it the imprint of a hand, 
broad and muscular, and with thick, square- 
tipped fingers! 

“That was made by the fellow who forced 
the window,” explained Kingdon. “While pry- 
ing at the window he put out his left hand to 
steady himself. When I first looked at the win- 
dow the reflection of the sun kept me from see- 
ing the impression of the hand, but someone 
came and stood behind the glass, and the thing 
was clear as day. It looked like Jed’s hand, but 


“Whot if it was?” weakly protested B rowdy, 
who had slunk back against the counter. “I 
might ’a’ made it when I was openin’ the winder 
— er — after the robbery.” 

“You forget,” said Rex soberly, “how positive 
you were not twenty minutes ago, that you hadn’t 
been near the outside of the window since it was 
washed.” He turned again to Winkler. “Hav- 


252 


REX KINGDON 


ing found my due, it was necessary to get an- 
other print to match. That’s what I wanted the 
window lights for, and that’s why I accidentally 
jostled Jed so he’d slap his left hand on the glass 
to keep it from slipping. He was most obliging. 
Here’s the result. You see there’s no doubt about 
both impressions being made by the same hand.” 

He held up the two sheets of glass, side by 
side, and the truth of his words was instantly ap- 
parent to the onlookers. Even the sheriff was 
compelled to utter a word of approval, and old 
Winkler slapped the boy heartily on the back. 

“Smart, by heck!” exclaimed the storekeeper. 
“I never seen anythin’ to beat it. Was seein’ 
that print the fust that led you to s’picion Jed?” 

“No. When I saw the tool chest I was sure 
the job had been done from the inside. Only by 
dumb luck would a stranger have found it in the 
dark. When it comes to that, I don’t believe it 
was done at night, for Jed had plenty of time 
to pull off the trick here in the morning.” 

“Well,” said the sheriff, “all I gotter say is 
that you’re a heap sight smarter’n I took ye for. 
When Jed was a-pokin’ fun at ye and you said 
somethin’ about the feller who got the last laugh. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


253 


I never thought you’d be the one. But you kin 
laugh at Jed now, all right.” 

“Oh, no,” said the boy soberly, “I can’t laugh ; 
I’m sorry for him. It’s no laughing matter. 
Just the same, I’m glad an innocent man will not 
suffer.” 

“And I have you to thank for that !” exclaimed 
Markham, gripping Kingdon’s hand. “I’ll never 
forget, my boy.” 

“Let me say,” put in Holloway, “that I hope 
you don’t hold no grudge. I cal’lated I was doin’ 
my duty when I nabbed you. I ain’t got nothin’ 
ag’inst ye now, though you may feel that you’ve 
got somethin’ ag’inst me.” 

“Let’s forget it,” said Markham generously. 

With Markham and Starbuck, Rex turned to- 
ward the door, and to his surprise, he beheld the 
grinning countenances of Larry Phillips, Wren- 
shall, Scott, Lebaude and Nipper Ware. The 
star of Walcott Hall athletics hailed him proudly. 

“You’ve got old Solomon beat a mile,” asserted 
Phillips. “Some big noise in the sleuth line. I 
wish we had you for quarterback on the eleven. 
Maybe you’d inject a little gray matter into the 
plays.” 


254 


REX KINGDON 


“Always open for offers,” laughed Rex. “I’m 
afraid you might be disappointed, though.” 

“Your modesty at times is as amazing as your 
cheek at others,” said Phillips. “I’m glad I was 
on hand to see the finish of this affair. Now 
we’ll escort you back to camp in triumph.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


255 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

WHEN NIPPER FORGOT. 

“Nipper,” said Rex Kingdon in exasperation, 
■“you’re first cousin to a paradox.” 

“You’re another!” flung back Ware indig- 
nantly. “I never had a cousin by the name of 
Paradox. Perhaps you mean Perkins.” 

“I mean,” stated Rex, “that you’re a contra- 
diction. In three feet of water you swim per- 
fectly well, but the minute you get over your 
head you sink. I’ve lost patience with you.” 

“Awful sorry, Rex,” apologized Nipper con- 
tritely. “I’d do anything in the world to get over 
it, but I just can’t seem to. When I know I can 
put my feet down and touch bottom I’m not ner- 
vous at all; but as soon as I get out of my depth, 
I begin to think of what would happen if I got 
tired or got a cramp, and it finishes me right 
away.” 

“It’s the greatest case of self-hypnotism I ever 
saw. If you could only be placed in a position 


256 


REX KINGDON 


that would force you to swim right off without 
thinking of yourself, I’ll bet it would cure you.” 

“We might tow him out a couple of hundred 
feet in a tub,” suggested Wrenshall from the 
shore, “and dump him. How’d that do?” 

Nipper hurriedly moved nearer the beach, and 
Rex laughingly said : 

“Probably he’d drown of sheer fright. I’m 
afraid that’s a bit too radical. We’ll have to 
think up some other way. Get busy, you shirker 1 
I’m not going to have you letting up on your 
practice, even if you are able to go through the 
drill with your eyes shut.” 

Nipper resumed his swimming back and forth 
across the shoal part of the cove. His stroke was 
good, and he had plenty of wind and endurance. 
A stranger would never have supposed such an 
excellent swimmer could be afflicted by a positive 
horror of deep water. 

Experience had taught 'Kingdon how hard the 
trouble was to cure, and as he swam lazily around 
in the clear water, he cudgeled his brains for a 
solution of the problem. Erom the shore Wren- 
shall and Scotty occupied themselves by hurling 
sarcastic comment and criticism upon the head 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


257 


of Ware, in hopes that ridicule might be suc- 
cessful where persuasion had failed. 

A week had elapsed since the events narrated 
in the last chapter. Having spent two days as 
his cousin’s guest, Dan Markham had departed 
for Portland, eager to begin his life afresh. 
Doubtless Jed Browdy was suffering the penalty 
of his crime, but the boys had heard nothing of 
what had happened after their departure from 
the village. Their time had been entirely occu- 
pied by the daily camp life and a growing inti- 
macy with Larry Phillips and his comrades across 
the lake. Everything seemed to be progressing 
finely save Nipper’s swimming, and for even 
practical purposes, that was at a standstill. 

Presently Kingdon swam to the beach and 
sprawled out beside Wrenshall and Scotty. He 
did not stay long and, soon after he returned to 
the water, the pair he had left arose and strolled 
away. 

Nipper was rather glad to have them go, for 
he could not, at one and the same time, attend 
to his swimming and retort with proper spirit to 
their jibing comments. He had begun to enjoy 
his daily lesson in the water more than he had 
ever dreamed he could. It interested and pleased 


258 


REX KINGDON 


him to note how his stroke improved steadily, 
and how he was able to swim a little further each 
day without tiring. He would have exulted had 
he been able to overcome his horror of deep water, 
but that was something so deeply ingrained that 
he feared he never should. With such a settled 
conviction, it was natural that he shouldn’t try 
very hard. 

A distance along the shallows had been staked 
off, and he had to cover it a certain number of 
times. He counted them as he swam, now and 
then making some casual remark to Rex. He was 
nearing the end of his task, and feeling very 
chipper over the fact that he was not tired at all, 
when suddenly he heard his name called in a 
strange, unnatural voice that gave him both a 
shock and a chill : 

“Nip! Oh, Nip! I ” 

Ware’s feet sought the bottom. He rose, 
whirled and stared out on the lake. Then he 
choked with horror. Not a hundred feet trom 
shore, Kingdon was struggling in the water — 
struggling with a desperation which struck ter- 
ror to Nipper’s heart. His arms were beating 
the water like flails; his face was distorted and 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 259 ' 

his eyes appeared to bulge. To the watching 
boy it seemed that Rex could barely keep him- 
self afloat. 

"Help !” the latter gasped faintly. “Get the — 
boys, Nip! Cramp!” 

For another second Nipper stood like a spile 
driven deep in the sand. Breaking the spell at 
last, he splashed shoreward, frantically scream- 
ing as he went : 

“Help! Help! Dick! Scotty! Quick! Rex 
is drowning ! Help !” 

Floundering through the shallow water, he 
reached the shore without receiving an answer. 
Still crying out, he raced on to the top of the 
slope, where the appeal died in his throat; for 
there was not a soul in sight. Filled with panicky 
despair, he turned to stare back at the lake and 
saw Kingdon’s head just slipping out of sight 
beneath the rippling water. Rex was drowning, 
and he was doing nothing to save him! 

With an incoherent sound that was half cry 
and half sob, he bounded madly down the slope, 
tore through the shallow water, flung himself 
forward and swam — swam with every atom of 
strength he could put into his strokes — straight 


260 


REX KINGDON 


out toward the spot where the blond head of his 
friend had disappeared. 

The head came up just as he reached the place, 
cleaving the water with a silence and suddenness 
that gave the boy a shock. Like a flash Ware 
clutched the thick, yellow mass of hair with one 
hand, turned shoreward immediately and struck 
out manfully with the other hand and his two 
legs. 

He had heard that this was the way to rescue 
an unconscious person from the water, but he had 
not imagined how difficult the feat would be. For 
a time he seemed to make no progress whatever, 
Kingdon’s body being a dead weight that 
dragged him down and impeded his movements. 

“I must get him in,” he thought. “If I fail, 
there’s no one else. I’ve just got to do it!” 

He did not think of himself; not for a mo- 
ment since starting, seemingly without his own 
volition, to save the friend he esteemed above 
all others, had any risk he must face caused 
him to falter a hair. The water was very deep 
out there, and he knew it, having seen some of 
the boys try vainly to “sound”; but had it been 
deeper than the fathomless ocean, it could not 
have made him quail a whit in this emergency. 



Like a flash Ware clutched the thick, yellow mass of hair 

with one hand . — Page 260 . 
















IN THE NORTH WOODS 261 

At last he could touch bottom. Catching King- 
don under the arms, he staggered through the 
shallow water and dragged him up on the beach. 
He knew the body should be rolled over some- 
thing, but he was appalled to realize that he had 
forgotten whether it ought to lie face downward 
or face upward. In the brief moment of hesita- 
tion that followed, Kingdon’s lids quivered and, 
to Nipper’s intense relief, he suddenly began to 
cough and sputter. Soon he was able to sit up 
and gaze somewhat groggily about him. 

“I caught a cramp, didn’t I?” he muttered. 
“Who brought me in ?” 

Nipper flushed faintly. “I — I did,” he stam- 
mered. 

Kingdon stared at him incredulously. “You !” 
he exclaimed. “Why, you’d be scared to death 
if you had to swim half that distance.” 

“I — I guess I must have forgotten to be 
scared,” faltered Ware in an embarrassed tone. 

For a few moments Rex continued to stare 
queerly at his companion. “It’s a good hundred 
feet,” he said at last. “And you swam out there 
and brought me in by the — er — how did you 
bring me in ?” 


262 


REX KINGDON 


“I had hold of your topknot,” explained Ware. 

“Brought me in by the topknot, which would 
have been no cinch for even an experienced swim- 
mer. But it was something like an accident ; you 
said you forgot to be scared. You couldn’t do 
it again in a thousand years. You couldn’t swim 
out there and back by yourself, to say nothing 
about bringing in a drowning man.” 

Rex had seized the psychological moment to 
rouse Nipper by the spur of doubt and ridicule 
that had hitherto left him unmoved. The little 
chap actually glared at the fellow he had rescued, 
all the resentment of his nature set boiling. 

“Accident, was it?” he snarled savagely. 
“How do you know so much, Smarty ? You were 
stiff as a pickled herring, and you didn’t know 
anything about it. Couldn’t do it again, hey? 
Oh, couldn’t I? Well, I’ll show you! Just you 
watch me, Mr. Know-it-all !” 

“Hold on!” cried Rex as Nipper jumped up 
and started for the water. “Better not try it 
till you’re rested. It’s away over your head, 
you know.” 

“What do I care if it is!” shouted Ware furi- 
ously. “I saved your life, and then you sneer at 
me ! Keep off ! Don’t try to stop me ! I’ll show 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


263 


you, you conceited wonder of the world! I’ll 
make you take it all back.” 

Into the water he dashed until it was up to his 
waist, and then, launching himself forward, he 
swam straight out toward the spot where King- 
don had been struggling a little while before. 
Delighted with the success of his stratagem, 
Kingdon swam out also, keeping a short dis- 
tance behind the pupil whose lessons had borne 
fruit at last. And when Nipper had gone some 
distance further out than before, the satisfied 
instructor called to him: 

“That’s enough, old man. You don’t have to 
swim across the lake. I’ll swallow all I said. 
Come on back before I catch another cramp.” 

Nipper turned at once. “What are you doing 
out here, anyhow ?” he demanded. “I don’t need 
you paddling after me. I can take care of my- 
self.” 

“Oh, you’re cocky now,” returned Rex; “but 
wait till to-morrow — you’ll be so scared again 
that anybody won’t be able to drive you ten feet 
from shore with a loaded gun.” 

“If I am,” shouted Ware, “I’ll take the gun 
and shoot myself!” 


264 


REX KINGDON 


Reaching shallow water, he waded out with 
the air of one decidedly injured ; and suppressing 
his inward laughter, Kingdon followed, confi- 
dent that Nipper had been completely cured at 
last. 


0 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


265 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

friendship’s hand refused. 

They had dressed and reached the cabin, Nip- 
per continuing to be somewhat indignant and re- 
sentful, before Wrenshall and Scotty turned up 
with the somewhat lame explanation that they 
had gone off to look for Baudie and Starbuck, 
but had failed to find them. They exclaimed 
loudly on hearing Kingdon’s account of the res- 
cue, and immediately christened Nipper “Life- 
saver.” Their praise and congratulations were 
extravagant, but held a teasing, bantering under- 
current which continued to annoy Ware. He 
did not want to be made a marvel, but it did seem 
as if they took the whole affair with extraordi- 
nary carelessness. 

“They don’t seem to realize,” he thought, “that 
if it hadn’t been for me, Rex might have drowned. 
S’pose they think, too, that I’ll be scared again 
to-morrow. We’ll see about that!” 

Nor did he relax much toward Kingdon, al- 
though once or twice Rex took Ware’s part 


266 


REX KINGDON 


against the joshing of the other two, but this was 
done in a laughing, careless manner that did not 
seem like the gratitude to be expected from one 
whose life had been saved. There was some- 
thing about the affair that continued to irritate 
the star of the performance. 

When the two other fellows showed up, Nip- 
per was presently made aware of the existence 
of some secret joke. There was much immod- 
erate laughter — there is nothing more irritating 
to the person who is not in on the affair — and 
more of the “Lifesaver” josh Wrenshall had 
started, until finally Ware grew so cross and 
indignant that, after dinner, he slipped away to 
cool off. 

An hour’s brisk tramp through the woods ac- 
complished that result, and satisfied him that he 
had been a chump to let himself be ruffled by 
what was nothing more than the ordinary run 
of joshing give-and-take. He didn’t want to 
pose as a hero; nothing could be more distaste- 
ful. He hadn’t rescued Rex for praise, but be- 
cause he had to. He really didn’t deserve any 
credit at all for being dominated by an impulse 
he couldn’t have resisted if he had tried. 

It was in this state of mind that he returned 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


267 


through the trees back of the cabin. Even before 
reaching the clearing, he heard the chatter of 
voices, punctuated by laughter. Without halting, 
his mind made up to carry it off easily and meet 
jest with counter jest, he was moving around the 
chimney end of the cabin when all at once a 
phrase in Wrenshall’s voice stopped him in his 

tracks : 

* 

“ greatest joke you ever knew, and now 

Nip thinks he’s a heroic lifesaver.” 

Ware caught his breath, an expression of be- 
wildered amazement creeping into his eyes. 

“Tell us,” urged the voice of Larry Phillips. 

“Rex has been teaching him to swim,” ex- 
plained Dick Wrenshall, “but he was afraid to go 
into deep water. So ” 

“He couldn’t do it,” interposed Kingdon. “He 
was ducked and nearly drowned when he was a 
kid, and the impression stuck. I got him so he 
could swim all right in the shallows, but the min- 
ute it was over his head, down he went every 
time. I knew if he once swam in deep water, 
even a little way, he’d be all right. That was 
why I sent away the fellows and then faked a 
cramp. He thought I was drowning, and he had 


268 


REX KINGDON 


to come out after me or watch me perish before 
his eyes.” 

“Splashed out there like a little hero and 
grabbed Rex by the hair,” laughed Wrenshall. 
“I’ll bet he pulled out a handful or two, didn’t 
he? It was a circus seeing him coming back, 
puffing and blowing — Jim and I were looking on 
from the bushes — with Rex, supposed to be un- 
conscious, helping him along by a leg stroke now 
and then. We near died laughing ” 

Nipper heard no more of the speech. His face 
was burning and his eyes were bright with tears 
of rage. So the whole thing had been a trick, 
with nothing real about it ! He recalled his feel- 
ings when he thought Rex was drowning, and at 
that moment he hated them all — Kingdon more 
than any of the others. In a dumb daze he real- 
ized that Rex was speaking again: 

“Wren’s got a rather crude sense of humor, as 
you can see, Larry. Personally I don’t see any- 
thing so wildly mirthful in this affair. It was 
all real to the kid. He did a mighty fine thing 
and I’m proud of him. I hated to play such a 
trick, but it seemed to be the only way to cure 
him, and it surely worked. He won’t be bothered 
any more by lack of confidence in the water.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


269 


Nipper did not wait to hear anything further, 
hut withdrew silently, as he had come. He was 
still flushed, but his anger, especially against Rex, 
was melting away. After all, the trick had been 
performed for his own special benefit, and he’d 
really come out ahead ; for he was certain King- 
don was right in saying he would never again 
lack confidence in the water. Surely for that 
blessing he could take a little passing jollying. 

Later, when Ware joined the others on the 
point, his irritation had worn down to a slight 
grudge against Dick Wrenshall for making 
rather too much of the affair. With a mental 
note to gratify this grudge in the near future, 
he was able to face the badinage that greeted 
him, and he took it with such good grace that 
presently the boys let up in favor of something 
more entertaining. 

As he had come over alone, Phillips was per- 
suaded without much difficulty to stay to supper. 
Rex suspected an underlying seriousness when 
the visitor laughingly remarked that he some- 
times got sick of the bunch across the lake. 

“They don’t mix well,” Phillips explained. 
“Melchor isn’t a bad chap, but Durand’s stuck 
up and afraid of soiling his clothes. Brigham’s 


270 


REX KINGDON 


got a nice cheerful grouch, Vickers is a crank, 
and the rest are just kids.” 

“Jolly crowd,” laughed Rex. “You must be 
having the time of your life.” 

“Happy as a clam in hot water,” chuckled 
Phillips. “But it’s bad for my nerves, and I 
came over here to take the rest cure. What sort 
of a chap is Brigham, anyhow? Does he always 
go round with a battle-ax face and a chip on 
his shoulder, or is he sometimes half human?” 

The muscles of Kingdon’s jaw hardened a bit, 
for he had not forgotten Brigham’s treachery 
in the matter of the paddles, nor did he think 
he ever should. He might keep it to himself, but 
he could not forgive the deed. He could not 
remember ever having been so intensely and 
lastingly bitter against anyone ; but it seemed to 
him, considering everything that had happened 
since their first meeting, that Brigham was a 
fellow without a single redeeming quality, — 
mean, treacherous and quite beyond the pale. 

“I really don’t know him well, Larry,” Rex 
answered stiffly. “To be frank, I love him like 
a dose of aconite.” 

“So I judged,” said Phillips dryly; “and the 
feeling, I imagine, is reciprocated. Still, you 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


271 


must have noticed whether this sulkiness is nor- 
mal. Not that it matters much, for in the past 
week we’ve hardly seen him at all. He spends 
most of his time off alone in the woods.” 

“You should worry and lose your sleep ! When 
he gets over it he’ll come around and tell you 
how to run things. That’s him.” 

“Yes he will — not! If he tries that, I’ll tell 
him something, and I’m a fancy teller when I 
start telling.” 

The talk shifted to other subjects. Presently, 
when Baudie and Scott entered the cabin to pre- 
pare supper, Phillips accompanied them. Proud 
of his culinary ability, he had promised to in- 
struct the Canadian lad in a new method of mak- 
ing flapjacks. Having done this to his satisfac- 
tion and returned to the group outside the door- 
way, he found that Kingdon was not with them. 

“Out on the point, I reckon,” he thought, 
catching sight of a head moving beyond a fringe 
of bushes. 

Having taken a step or two in that direction, 
he discovered that the person was Starbuck, who 
had gone to the lake for a pail of water. An in- 
stant later a clear, liquid, birdlike call from the 


272 


REX KINGDON 


woods behind the cabin brought Phillips round, a 
glint of interest in his eyes. 

“A hermit thrush!” he muttered. “And I’ve 
never clapped eyes on one of the brutes.” 

Eager to obtain a glimpse of the shy inmate 
of the forest whose delicious note he had heard 
more than once during his stay at the lake, Larry 
moved cautiously round the cabin and through 
the trees growing close up to the rear. 

The call sounded again, sweet as the music of 
a golden bell. It was answered by another, dif- 
ferent note, which seemed to come from a little 
further away. 

“Two of them!” thought Phillips. “Now, if 
only they don’t scare off before I get my blinkers 
on them ” 

Cautiously thrusting aside a thick hemlock 
branch, he paused and suddenly became rigid, 
gazing with puzzled eyes at a picture across the 
glade. Motionless against a background of hem- 
lock and gleaming white birches, stood Kingdon. 
His head was tipped backward; his eyes were 
fixed on the upper branches of a near-by tree; 
his lips were pursed oddly, and from them issued 
a series of those sweet liquid notes. So close, 
almost, as to resemble an echo, the other, fainter. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 273 

answer thrilled through the woods. Again Rex 
called, and the amazed onlooker saw a slim shape 
of mottled gray and brown flitting timidly down 
from limb to limb. 

It was the female thrush! Phillips scarcely 
dared breathe for fear of frightening her away. 
Almost incredulous, he watched her reach the 
lower limb and hesitate while the call, in exact 
imitation of that made by the male bird, rippled 
from Kingdon’s lips. Then the fascinated feath- 
ered creature fluttered from the limb, and for 
an instant the spectator of the little drama be- 
lieved she would alight on the shoulder of the 
lad who had decoyed her in such a marvelous 
manner. But she flitted away and vanished, with 
a final note of farewell. 

Evidently the show was over, for at once Rex 
turned to retrace his steps to the cabin. Phillips 
stepped out to meet him. 

“I knew you were a bird,” he said, “but I didn’t 
know you could talk their language. By Jove! 
that was a slick performance. Wish I could do 
it. Give me a lesson.” 

“Help!” laughed Rex. “Teaching Nipper 
Ware to swim is job enough, but this would be 
harder. I don’t want another pupil, thank you.” 


274 


REX KINGDON 


“Stingy!” taunted Larry. “Let me get my 
hands on you, and I’ll ” 

Rex fled to the cabin, Phillips pursuing, and 
the affair ended in a good-natured scuffle. 

But Larry was too curious to let the matter 
drop there. After supper, he sought out Star- 
buck and began to ask questions. 

“Imitate a thrush!” exclaimed Kent. “That’s 
nothing much for him. Haven’t you seen him 

Oh, I forgot ; you’ve never been off in the 

woods with him. There isn’t much in the way 
of wild creatures that he can’t call around him.” 

“I suppose he can call a squirrel?” said Phil- 
lips, with a grin. 

“But not the way you mean ; he doesn’t climb 
a tree and talk nutty. You didn’t get a chance 
to spring that stale one, did you? Honestly, 
I’ve seen him get a big gray squirrel up within 
three feet of him, and then send him off so mad 
at the fake that you could hear him chattering 
half a mile. Going for a walk with Rex in the 
woods is one of the most amusing things I know 
of.” 

“Must be,” agreed Phillips. “He’ll have to 
show me some more in this line — to-morrow, 
too.” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


275 


As it happened, however, the press of other 
matters caused him to forget this purpose. Di- 
rectly after breakfast they all took to the canoes 
and paddled across to the other camp to spend 
the day. They had scarcely landed, and the hil- 
arious welcome of the other party had barely 
begun to subside, when Rex, happening to be 
standing alone a little way off from the rest, was 
surprised to see Brigham suddenly appear before 
him exactly as if he had been waiting to seize 
the opportunity. His face was set and hard; 
his eyes did not meet Kingdon’s squarely. For' a 
few seconds he stood furtively moistening his 
lips with his tongue, and when he spoke his voice 
was hoarse and rather low. 

“See here, Kingdon,” he said, “I’m sorry about 
what — what happened the other day. I wish 
you’d — forget it and — and shake hands.” 

Rex regarded him scornfully. He had made 
a failure, and now he would pretend friendship 
in order that he might have the better chance 
to put over some new underhanded trick. King- 
don’s face colored with a rush of the same bitter 
anger Brigham had aroused in him before. 

“I haven’t quite so short a memory,” he re- 


276 


REX KINGDON 


torted. “And I keep my hands clean for my 
friends.” 

Bruce caught his underlip between his teeth 
and, raising his head with a jerk, looked at Rex 
for an instant with eyes that were full of re- 
gret. Then, without another word, he turned 
slowly and walked away. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


277 


CHAPTER XXX. 

troubled by REGRET. 

Rex stared after Brigham, a dull red darken- 
ing his tan. The words had no more than passed 
his lips than he regretted them, realizing that 
they sounded like the speech of a stage hero 
in a cheap melodrama. It would have seemed 
more manly had he taken Brigham’s apology at 
its face value, even though deceived. He was 
uncomfortably conscious that he had acted the 
part of a prig, even before Bruce raised his eyes 
and gave him that quick look of regret. 

Meeting that glance, Rex was more than half 
convinced that the chap had been actually in 
earnest — had meant every word he said — and 
more; and this made Kingdon tenfold more un- 
comfortable. What had seemed surliness was 
possibly the natural embarrassment of a fellow 
to whom apologies of any sort were not common, 
and like many another of similar temperament, he 
had veiled diffidence and uncertainty with curt- 


278 


REX KINGDON 


ness. Instead of meeting him decently, Rex had 
given him a figurative slap in the face. 

Troubled, angry with himself, at last ashamed, 
Kingdon finally started to walk slowly in the 
direction Bruce had taken. He did not know 
just what he meant to do, and he had not taken 
a dozen steps before Phillips swooped down on 
him and gathered him in for a water bout with 
the spears. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Kingdon went 
with him reluctantly. He could not very well 
decline on the plea that he wanted to apologize 
to the chap he had spoken of only yesterday with 
the most uncompromising bitterness. He didn’t 
know that he was ready to apologize. He wasn’t 
at all sure he knew what he wanted to do, ex- 
cept at this moment he had no taste for the bat- 
tle with the sponge-tipped lances. 

It was natural that he should acquit himself 
poorly, for the game was one in which inattention 
invited failure, and most of the time he was try- 
ing to pick out Brigham among the spectators. 
The swimming race which followed did not 
arouse his complete interest, and when it was 
over and he had dressed, his mind returned to dis- 
tasteful meditation. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 279 

“It was a nice gentlemanly thing for me to 
do !” he muttered after frowning over it for fif- 
teen minutes. “I’m so proud of it that I’d like 
to kick myself, and I’ll look Brig up and tell him 
so.” 

He had imagined Bruce might be in his tent, 
but that was empty, and an inquiry of Phillips 
elicited the information that Brigham was not 
about the camp at all. 

“He beat it to the woods two hours or more 
ago,” Larry stated. “That’s what he does ’most 
every day. Dell says he’s made friends with a 
bunch of lumbermen back yonder, and I suppose 
he finds them better company than we are.” 

Kingdon did not believe Bruce had taken to 
the woods in search of more congenial company. 
In fact, the fancy had come to him that Brig- 
ham’s apparent grouch was not a grouch at 
all, but simply the outward manifestation of un- 
happiness. 

The morning had been close and stifling, but 
while they were at dinner a breeze sprang up and 
swiftly grew into something like a gale. 

During the meal, Phillips discoursed about 
Walcott Hall and the life there, and he continued 
it afterward. He could not have chosen a topic 


280 


REX KINGDON 


better calculated to interest Kingdon, for Rex 
had become deeply absorbed in Larry’s tales of 
the school, its fine system, its athletics, its mel- 
lowed traditions, its corking set of fellows. It 
was the sort of talk — for Phillips was an uncon- 
scious press agent — which made a majority of 
the listeners want to rush off and persuade their 
parents to enter them there forthwith for the 
fall term. Its effect on Kingdon was surprising 
because of the fact that Rex had hitherto shown 
no enthusiasm whatever for any system of edu- 
cation. His faculties along certain lines were 
very highly developed, but the lines were those 
which interested him; on most other subjects he 
was painfully uninformed. 

Perhaps the months he had recently spent 
among the wholesome, normal lads of a prosper- 
ous country village had brought about a change 
in the boy whose life, before that, had been 
one long round of hotels and lodgings in every 
quarter of the globe with his scientific father. 
At all events there was a change, and more and 
more he wanted to go to Walcott Hall. But 
there was one big obstacle : his father would not 
let him, he felt sure. It would not be from lack 
of means, but because of his own crass ignorance 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


281 


of mathematics and the rudiments of English 
grammar. He was clever in many other depart- 
ments, but those two subjects he had never even 
studied until he came to Ridgewood. He had 
spoken of this now, and was wondering whether 
boning hard for the remainder of the summer 
would do any good, when he became aware of a 
sudden excitement among the boys around him. 

“I tell you it’s a fire!” exclaimed Tug Melchor 
positively. “It’s a good ways off and not very 
big yet, but with this wind ” 

Rex rose to his feet and turned to follow the 
direction of many pairs of eyes. Their position 
near the edge of the stream afforded them a nar- 
row but extended view of a stretch behind the 
camp. Looking along the straight path of water, 
they could see several miles of rolling and thickly 
wooded land which was backed by a bold ridge 
of mountains. On the lower slopes of that ridge, 
a small column of smoke rose, was seized by the 
wind, and torn into a thousand fragments. 

Some of the boys regarded it as trivial, and 
several laughed and talked about a bonfire. Rex 
did not smile, however, for he was thinking of 
the miles of “slash” — great heaps of pine tops 
and branches spread in the wake of the lumber- 


282 


REX KINGDON 


men who were operating on this side of the lake. 
He had seen those waste lands only a few days 
before, and had thought of what would follow 
if this bone-dry mass ever caught fire. Now the 
fire had appeared, and, though it was a mile or 
more away, the wind was in just the right quar- 
ter to drive it down on the inflammable tinder. 
Rex glanced at Phillips and found the big fel- 
low’s eyes fixed on his face. 

“Some fire, eh ?” hazarded Larry. “I’ve never 
seen a forest fire on a frolic, so I don’t know what 
they’re like at the start.” 

“It’ll be some frolic if it isn’t stopped soon. 
Remember the mass of slash we saw over back 
of the lumber camp the other day?” 

Phillips’ eyes narrowed. “I should say I do! 
Nice fodder for a blaze. It would carry off their 
camp and everything else. Do you think there’s 
a chance of the fire getting that far?” 

“Ten chances to one unless the wind changes.” 

“Wough! What do you say if we go up- 
stream, fellows? If there’s going to be any ex- 
citement I’d like to take a hand. Camp’s safe 
enough, isn’t it, Rex, old boy? No danger of 
getting burned out of house and home while we’re 
gone ?” 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


283 


Rex hesitated. “With a fire in the woods, you 
can’t ever tell what will happen. Still, I don’t 
see why we shouldn’t chase up-stream a ways and 
see what’s doing. If it looks bad we can hike 
back again and break camp.” 

“It’s a go,” said Phillips. “The old scow’s 
here, and it wouldn’t take ten minutes to stack 
everything up in her and pull out into the lake. 
Come on, everybody. Here’s some real excite- 
ment at last.” 

His tone aroused even those who regarded the 
thing as trivial, and there was a rush to get pad- 
dles and to pile into the canoes. Before taking 
to the water, Rex glanced again at the distant 
fire, and was astonished to note that, even in that 
brief time, the column of smoke had quadrupled 
in volume. Instead of dissipating as it rose into 
the air, it was now driven forward, a thick, 
ragged streamer, by the furious wind. 

“There won’t be a thing doing when it strikes 
that slash !” muttered Kingdon under his breath. 

Having no desire to be called a croaker, he did 
not express his apprehension aloud ; but he knew 
what was almost sure to come, and most of the 
others did not. Laughing and joshing, they piled 
into the canoes and put out upon the stream. 


284 


REX KINGDON 


They had not gone more than a couple of hun- 
dred yards when, all at once. Chub Taffinder set 
up a wailing lament : 

“There’s thirteen of us! That’s awful bad 
luck. I’m afraid something’s going to happen.” 

“Thirteen!” echoed Melchor. “Why, there 

ought to be Oh, Brig isn’t here. Where is 

he, anyhow, fellows — where’s Brig?” 

Several answered him at once, and Rex 
frowned slightly as he listened. For. a space he 
had forgotten Brigham and his ungenerous treat- 
ment of the chap, but now he remembered him 
with an uncomfortable stab of regret. Brig had 
gone away into the woods, and the woods on 
this afternoon were not safe to wander in at 
random. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


285 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE FOREST FIRE. 

Phillips promptly squelched Taffinder by tell- 
ing him to cut out his superstitious nonsense. 
The canoes swept on up-stream, and for some 
distance the boys could still see the fire with its 
thickening billows of smoke and swiftly widen- 
ing area. Finally an abrupt turn in the stream 
caused serried ranks of tall pines to blot out any 
extended view. 

For a mile or more they paddled on, the 
younger boys joking and laughing with a touch 
of that nervous shrillness which excitement 
usually brings. Having lost sight of the fire, 
there was nothing in the appearance of the sur- 
rounding forest to tell them that there was such 
a thing within a hundred miles; but they had 
imaginations with which to picture any degree of 
danger they pleased. There was a really pleasant 
thrill in thinking of what might lie beyond those 
barriers of silent forest giants. It was even 


286 


REX KINGDON 


possible to work up a nice little feeling of pride 
at their own courage in going forward so boldly. 

Then all at once a whiff of smoke was wafted 
through the forest aisles, and at once everyone 
began to sniff. Their efforts were quickly re- 
warded, for in what seemed an incredibly short 
time, the sharp tang of burning pine was every- 
where. Except for a faint haze, there was no 
smoke visible, but the hilarious members of the 
crowd relapsed into silence, casting nervous 
glances to right and left through the forest which 
seemed to have suddenly grown ominously still. 
Now and then they looked backward with what 
was close to longing, and the impetuous brisk- 
ness of their paddling became noticeably modi- 
fied. 

Phillips and Kingdon, affected in precisely the 
opposite fashion, began to laugh and jest. 

“What’s the matter, Chub?” inquired the for- 
mer, observing the fat boy’s frequent glances. 
“Lost something?” 

“Only his muscle,” laughed Rex. “Anything 
suggestive of heat always makes Taffy wilt.” 

Crude as it was, it served to spur the paddlers 
on again. 

“What do you think about it, Rex?” Phillips 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


287 


asked in a low tone. “We don’t want to make 
fools of ourselves and get into a hole. Is it safe 
to go as far as the lumber camp ! I’d like to see 
what the men there are going to do.” 

“Let’s keep on. It’s not more than half a 
mile, and we’ve hardly begun to see the smoke 
yet.” 

The stream had grown quite narrow, but they 
knew it could be navigated by canoe all the dis- 
tance to the lumber camps. Soon, however, 
smoke began to drift through the trees in a con- 
stantly increasing volume that set the boys chok- 
ing and sputtering. Still they did not turn back, 
and Phillips finally stopped his canoe within a 
hundred yards of the landing place used by the 
timber cutters. 

“Jingo !” he exclaimed. “It’s getting bad, Rex. 
What do you think about ” 

“I don’t understand it,” interrupted Kingdon, 
perplexed. “Doesn’t seem as if the fire could 
have got here so quickly, and the lumber crowd 
hasn’t even started to get out. That’s their scow 
tied up to the bank, isn’t it?” 

Phillips nodded, and they paddled a little closer. 
A small, flat-bottomed scow used by the river- 
men when getting logs down in the spring was 


288 


REX KINGDON 


fastened to a tree. A moment later the boys 
made out the figure of a man bending over some- 
thing on the bank. Through the smoke the 
man saw them. 

“Hi, you fellows!” he called. “Come on and 
help out.” 

The canoes were brought alongside the scow, 
which was heaped with dunnage, tools, supplies, 
and all sorts of miscellaneous portable property 
that the fellow had evidently carried down from 
the bunk house and other buildings. 

“What’s doing?” asked Phillips. “Where’s 
the rest of your crew?” 

“Makin’ back fire,” explained the lumberman, 
drawing one grimy hand across his sweaty fore- 
head. “It may stop the other. They got a good 
place about half a mile yonder, but they need 
men mighty bad. There's tools aplenty, if you’ve 
a mind to help. One of your crowd is in there 
now.” 

Phillips hesitated, glancing thoughtfully at the 
boys behind him. 

The lumberman’s lips curled. “Afraid?” he 
drawled sarcastically. 

Larry gave him a look. “Oh, yes,” he retorted, 
“frightened stiff. You’re pretty brave yourself. 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


289 


aren’t you? Takes real courage to load this scow 
the way you’re doing.” 

“Somebody had to do that,” growled the fel- 
low. 

But, without troubling to listen, Phillips turned 
to his comrades, his face flushed and his eyes 
bright. 

“I’m game, for one,” he said grimly; “but some 
of you can’t go. The kids, anyhow, are out of 
this. Chub, Roddy and Shrimp have got to stay 
here, and Nipper had better keep ’em company.” 

A protesting clamor arose, but it was swiftly 
stilled when Kingdon supported Phillips ; and to- 
gether they arbitrarily settled the matter in short 
order. The four younger chaps remained behind, 
as did Vickers, Lebaude and Durand. 

“If the smoke thickens much, the kids had bet- 
ter start on down-stream without waiting for 
us,” advised Kingdon. 

“Correct,” agreed Phillips. “And the rest of 
you needn’t delay too long, even if we don’t show 
up. We might be cut off from you, or some- 
thing. Now, old top, where are the tools you 
were talking about?” 

From the scow the woodsman produced a num- 
ber of heavy hoes with sharpened edges. Each 


290 


REX KINGDON 


"boy caught up one and started off through the 
woods at a trot. 

“I s’pose we’re fools to get roped into this,” 
said Phillips as he and Rex ran together; “but, 
somehow, 1 couldn’t help volunteering.” 

“That was right,” declared Kingdon quickly. 
“In the woods, a chap who refuses to fight fire 
is called a coward. Out West they can take 
men out of factories, or anywhere they choose, 
and force them to do fire duty.” 

“Then hooray for the volunteers!” laughed 
Phillips. “Did you hear what that fellow said 
about one of our fellows being here already? If 
he was right, it must be Brig.” 

“How’d you guess? It couldn’t be anybody 
else.” 

The smoke grew chokingly thick, and pres- 
ently, as they reached the place where the lum- 
bermen were working, they saw the reason why. 
The most of it came not from the principal fire, 
but from the backfire that had been started in the 
hope of burning over a stretch in the track of 
the big blaze that would be too wide for the 
flames to leap. The idea was to keep this smaller 
hlaze under control by constantly beating out the 
front line of fire and letting the other burn back 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


291 


against the wind. The method was practicable, 
but to-day the wind was so high and the avail- 
able fighting force so small that it was a constant 
struggle to keep the fire they had started for 
protection from leaping the bounds and swiftly 
becoming a new engine of destruction. 

As the boys came running up, dim figures were 
seen through the smoke working feverishly with 
hoes and mattocks. One of them, the foreman, 
straightened up and welcomed the reinforcements 
with an exclamation of satisfaction. He was 
blackened by smoke and dirt and streaming per- 
spiration until he looked like a colored man. 
Without asking how they happened to be there, 
he divided the party, sending a half to each end 
of the long line. 

Those lads fell to work like men; and it was 
the work of men to wield the hoes, clawing out 
those licking little flames that fed greedily on 
the bone-dry needles and debris. There was no 
let-up, even for an instant, lest the fire break 
through and get beyond control. The smoke 
choked them and the heat blistered their hands. 
Sweat burst from every pore in streams and 
made little wriggling channels on their sooty 
faces. 


292 


REX KINGDON 


Presently Rex, separated from the others, 
found himself working beside one of the lum- 
bermen, and a sudden thought came to him. 

“Where’s the other fellow — Brigham?” he 
asked abruptly. 

“Over yonder, last I knew.” 

The man jerked his head to the right, and 
through the smoke and red glow of flames, King- 
don could see three more figures working at the 
extreme end of the line. He lost them presently, 
for, with a sudden unexpected shifting of the 
wind, he had to work frantically to keep the fire 
from bursting through a new place. On the heels 
of that he became conscious of a dull ominous 
roaring from the north-east, a sound that struck 
chill apprehension to his heart; for it told him 
that, having reached the slashings, the main fire 
was eating through the mass with a velocity 
which made their puny little backfire seem to 
move with the crawling slowness of a snail. 

It seemed that the back fire had been started too 
late to accomplish the purpose desired. It seemed 
a hundred-to-one shot that the approaching mon- 
ster of destruction would easily leap the wide 
swath of burned territory intended to stop it. 
Rex passed a hand across his forehead to wipe 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


295 


away the blinding sweat, and he perceived Brig- 
ham laboring with the men some distance away 
as a gust lifted the smoke for an instant. Then 
the pall closed down again. If Bruce could stick 
at it like that, Rex wasn’t going to quit, and he 
resumed work. An instant later the man beside 
him flung down his hoe. 

“It’s cornin’, kid !” he shouted thickly. “Run !” 

That was what he did, and in a moment he 
was out of sight. With set teeth, Rex plied his. 
hoe mechanically for a few seconds before he 
saw the three figures on his right drop their 
implements and start toward the river. The 
roaring had increased, and the smoke was thick- 
ening with each passing moment. It was folly 
to stay longer, and so, tossing aside the useless 
hoe, Rex turned and stumbled away through the 
trees. 

He tried to follow a course parallel with that 
taken by the trio, of whom he knew Brigham to 
be one, keeping track of them as well as he could 
through the swirling clouds of smoke. Conse- 
quently, when he beheld only two emerge in sight 
from behind a clustered jungle of evergreens, he 
cut across their path at once. 

“Where’s Brigham?” he cried. 


294 


REX KINGDON 


“Just behind,” answered one of them breath- 
lessly. 

But Brigham was not in sight, and all at once 
Kingdon was attacked by a horrible fear that 
something was wrong. Immediately he stopped 
short, turned and ran back toward that inferno. 

“Brig!” he called wildly. “Brig, where are 
you ?” 

He heard no answer. The smoke, swirling 
around the boy, seemed to isolate him. Through 
the trees he saw flecks of murky crimson that 
moved and winked like demon eyes in a gray 
mask, and the air struck his face hot as the draft 
from a blast furnace. He ran forward a dozen 
steps further. Something crashing through the 
hushes made his heart leap with hope, but it was 
a fleeing deer, with wide, frightened eyes and 
dilated nostrils. Rex called again : 

“Brig! Where are you?” 

This time, to his intense relief, there came a 
muffled answer off to the left. Rushing that 
way, to his astonishment he beheld Bruce stand- 
ing motionless with his back against the trunk 
of a huge pine. 

“What are you waiting for?” gasped King- 
don. “Don’t you see it’s coming? Don’t you 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 295 

know there’s barely time for us to make the 
river?” 

Brigham looked at him oddly. “I know,” he 
said in a choked and shaking voice. “You’d bet- 
ter get out in a hurry, too. I’ve sprained my 
ankle, and I can barely hobble on it.” 


296 


REX KINGDON 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

FORGIVEN. 

For a fraction of a second, Kingdon gazed at 
Bruce in unspeakable dismay. Then his glance 
momentarily sought the crimson flecks that 
splashed the murky twilight, growing swiftly 
larger as they rushed forward. 

“Can’t you walk on it at all?” cried Rex 
aghast. 

“I’ll try again,” said Brig. 

But when he attempted to take a step, he 
plunged, crashing, forward upon his face. Sit- 
ting up, he turned his fear-stricken eyes toward 
the other boy. 

“No use!” he gasped. “Might as well be 
broken !” 

“I’ll have to help you,” said Rex, dragging the 
helpless fellow to his feet. 

Bruce was too heavy to be carried save in one 
way, and Kingdon turned his broad back and 
bent over slightly. 

“Get up!” he ordered. “Get up, I say! You 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


297 


don’t want to loaf around here and be roasted, do 
you?” 

With faint objection, Brigham clasped his 
arms around Kingdon’s neck, and Rex caught 
his legs and hoisted him into place. There was 
a heave, a cracking of muscles, and turning his 
face toward where he thought the stream must 
be, the determined rescuer resumed his stagger- 
ing flight beneath his heavy human burden. 

What followed speedily became more of a 
dreadful nightmare than reality. Strangled, 
gasping, groping his way forward, Rex had an 
awful sense of progressing at a snail’s pace, 
knowing all the while that the pursuing fire was 
coming on at almost the speed of a railroad 
train. The smoke grew thicker, more choking. 
He could hear the crackling of the flames, and 
presently the forest was lit up with a lurid glow. 
The heat became blistering, smothering, deadly. 

At first he tried to run, but that was soon 
shown to be impossible, for Brig was too heavy; 
and as the minutes passed, that weight seemed to 
grow even greater and more crushing. Once 
Bruce urged Rex to put him down and save him- 
self, but Kingdon snapped back a refusal. His 
face set in the dogged, indomitable lines of one 


298 


REX KINGDON 


who would never give in while there was a par- 
ticle of strength left in his body, he panted on. 
The roaring and crackling of the flames filled his 
ears, and the heat seemed to be singeing his hair 
and blistering his skin. 

Mechanically he plodded onward, his brain 
becoming more dulled with each suff oca ting 
breath he drew. He began to have queer fancies : 
Bruce was dead! He had driven him to his 
death by unkindness ! But why was he so heavy ! 
Why did that load grow and grow until his legs 
wobbled weakly beneath the weight of it? 

Suddenly a sound — half gasp, half cry — from 
Bruce aroused him. He caught a glimpse of 
some log buildings, and into his dazed mind came 
the realization that they had reached the lum- 
bermen’s camp. The river was just beyond — the 
blessed river ! 

A mass of flame, splashing down like a great 
drop, told that above their heads the trees were 
blazing. Showers of sparks and glowing twigs 
fell all around them, and the roaring furnace 
seemed at their very heels. Summoning his last 
ounce of strength for the mighty effort, Rex be- 
gan to run. Fortunately the ground sloped down- 
ward now, and that helped. The smoke was so 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


299 


thick he couldn’t see three yards ahead. Reach- 
ing the river bank, he plunged into the water 
with a tremendous splash. When he came up, 
Brigham was not far away. 

“All right?” choked Rex. 

“All right!” sputtered Brigham. 

Then, like magic, two canoes appeared beside 
them, and the voice of Larry Phillips cried: 

“Pile in here, one of you! Nipper can take 
the other. The water isn’t more’n three feet 
deep here. Be lively.” 

Rex helped Brigham into Phillips’ canoe and 
lost no time about getting himself into the one 
occupied by Nipper Ware, after which both pad- 
dlers settled down to the business of pulling away 
from there as fast as they could. For a time 
the whole world above them seemed to have 
turned a glaring crimson, but, drawing away 
from the danger zone, at last they were able to 
breathe more freely, and the paddlers slightly re- 
laxed their furious efforts. 

“That kid of yours ought to be spanked,” Phii- 
lips called to Rex. “I sent ’em all down-stream 
and was waiting for you two when I saw him 
sneaking back in that canoe. He’d put Ballard 
in with two others, and he said he came back be- 


300 


REX KINGDON 


cause he couldn’t go away and leave you in the 
woods.” 

“I’m no kid!” snarled Ware resentfully. “I’m 
sick of being called a kid! Think I’m going to 
leave Rex ” 

“You’re no kid,” agreed Kingdon. “You’re a 
man, Nipper! Give me that paddle and let me 
do a little work now.” 

“Work!” exploded Brigham in a queer voice. 
“Don’t you call toting me half a mile — work? 
That’s what he did, Larry! I fell and sprained 
my ankle — and thought I was done for. But he 
came back and took me on his back and car- 
ried me pretty near half a mile. And I weigh 
almost a hundred and seventy.” 

Phillips gave a low whistle. “That settles it,” 
he cried. “A chap who can do that isn’t going to 
be lost to our football team if I can help it. I’m 
going to get you into Walcott Hall this fall if 
I have to rope and tie you and tote you there 
on my back. Get me?” 

“Got you, Steve,” laughed Rex. “But you 
won’t have to go to all that trouble. If I can 
find somebody to coach me up on Math, so I’ll 
make a half way decent showing, I’ll enter.” 

“Math!” chortled Phillips. “Cinch! That’s 


IN THE NORTH WOODS 


301 


the kind of food I eat from choice. Soon as we 
get home I'll take you in hand, and if I can’t fit 
you for Walcott in six weeks, then you must have 
a head of solid ivory.” 

He kept his promise and, Kingdon’s head being 
of a normal composition, the result of the tuition 
was happy for everybody. Rex entered the fa- 
mous preparatory school in September. An ac- 
count of his first year there will be found in the 
third of the Twentieth Century Boys’ Series, the 
title of which is: “Rex Kingdon at Walcott 
Hall.” 

Reaching their camp, they found the remainder 
of the crowd busily engaged in taking down tents 
and packing their belongings into the flat-bot- 
tomed scow preparatory to seeking refuge on the 
lake. 

Happily they did not have to leave. A change 
of wind, followed by a fierce and drenching rain- 
storm, put them all out of danger from the for- 
est fire. It was while watching the storm gather 
and sweep down from the north that Rex re- 
membered something, and turned abruptly to 
Bruce Brigham. 

“See here, old man,” he said, “I’ve not apolo- 
gized for being such a cad when you spoke to me 


302 


REX KINGDON 


this morning. I never told you how sorry I was 
for throwing you down.” 

Brigham smiled a slow, embarrassed smile. 
“You didn’t have to tell me,” he returned. “You 
showed me.” 


THE END. 


705 

















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